


A Way Home

by ChaosRocket, sitabethel, Supersteffy



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh the Abridged Series, Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Dimension Travel, Hijinks & Shenanigans, LLF Comment Project, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-02-05 01:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosRocket/pseuds/ChaosRocket, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/pseuds/sitabethel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supersteffy/pseuds/Supersteffy
Summary: The fourth wall has collapsed and reality has begun to unravel. Escaping the Shadow Realm, and their failing universe, Marik and Bakura take a dimensional roadtrip through the multiverse in search of a new reality—and along the way, end up finding much more than they bargained for.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A while ago I (ChaosRocket), Sitabethel and SuperSteffy decided it would be cool to write an Abridged fic where Marik and Bakura visit the universes of a bunch of different Thiefshipping fics. So, this is that fic! 
> 
> Aside from the chapters written by the three of us, some of our author friends have also written guest chapters or scenes where Abridged Marik and Bakura visit their fics. For guest chapters/scenes not written by one of us three, there will be an author's note stating who wrote the chapter along with a link to that person's username and a link to the fic of theirs being visited.
> 
> Some fics are just referenced, but their authors didn't participate in writing this fic. In those cases the fics referenced will be linked at the end of the chapter where they appear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this prologue chapter- the part in italics- is dialogue directly from YGOTAS (with some very slight changes) so credit to LK for that. The rest of the fic isn't in script format and isn't quoted directly from Abridged; we just needed to transcribe that scene because that's the point in Abridged canon where this fic starts and it's relevant to the plot. The rest of this chapter, after the italics end, was written cooperatively by Sitabethel, ChaosRocket and SuperSteffy.
> 
> The title of this fic is a line from the YGOTAS Inception Spoof.

_Last time, on Yu-gi-oh the Abridged series:_

_Melvin: And now, Mega Ultra Chicken, arise from your grave!_

_Marik: Stay on target!_

_Bakura: Oh, bollocks._

_Marik: Stay on target!_

_Bakura: I believe we're royally screwed._

_Marik: Stay on friggin' target!_

_Bakura: What could I possibly use to defeat an Egyptian God card?_

_Marik: (In a stereotypical ghostly tone.) Ooh! The Celtic Guardian, Yugi! Ooh!_

_Bakura: I DON'T HAVE THE BLOODY CELTIC GUARDIAN! HOW THE BLOODY HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO USE A BLOODY CARD I DON'T BLOODY HAVE?! AND EVEN IF I DID BLOODY HAVE IT, HOW WOULD IT WORK AGAINST A BLOODY EGYPTIAN GOD?!_

_Marik: (Still in a stereotypical ghostly voice.) Because the fate of the world depends on it, Aibou!_

_Bakura: What the bloody hell does "aibou" mean?!_

_Marik: I think it's Japanese for "Gay"._

_Melvin: If you're done fighting with your girlfriend, we have a card game to finish._

_Bakura: He's not my girlfriend!_

_Marik: You tell him, honey!_

_Melvin: You fought so hard against me, Florence. And for what? Why do you care so much if this world is destroyed? I mean, isn't that what you're trying to accomplish?_

_Bakura: I'm not fighting for this world! This world can go to hell for all I care. I'm fighting for…_

_Melvin: Yes? For... what?_

_Bakura: I don't want to say it._

_Melvin: The truth, Florence. Out with it._

_Bakura: The truth...Marik, there's something you need to know._

_Marik: Oh, is it about how Kevin Spacey was Keyzer Söze because I so totally called that one!_

_Bakura: No. No, it's not related to Kevin Spacey at all actually. It's about us. Marik, I... I hate you. I hate you with all my heart. I hate you more than I've ever hated anybody. I hate you so much that I can barely take it. In fact, I want to go on hating you for the rest of my life. If our world is destroyed, well, I wouldn't be able to hate you anymore._

_Marik: Oh, Bakura! I had no idea you felt that way about me! If it makes you feel any better, I hate you too. I think I hated you from the moment I first met you._

_Bakura: In that case, Marik, if we win this duel, let us make sweet hatred together. Just you and me. Hating each other. All...night...long._

_Marik: Yes! Wait a second, are you coming onto me? I already told you, Bakura, I'm not gay!_

_Bakura: Could've fooled me._

_Melvin: And me._

_Marik: Hey, shut up, you don't know anything about me._

_Bakura: Marik, he is you. He knows everything about you!_

_Marik: He is the gay one!_

_Bakura: Marik, he's you!_

_Marik: He is the gay one!_

_Bakura: Wait a minute. Wasn’t that a deleted scene—?_

_Melvin: Now I shall use Mega Ultra Chicken's secret ability that I just this second made up to convert my Life Points into Attack Points, merging me with the beast itself! Prepare yourselves to become part of Internet obscurity! Say hi to the Juggernaut from me!_

_Marik: Don't worry, Bakura! This is the part where Yugi shows up and saves everybody from certain damnation! ...Any minute now._

_…_

_Marik: Huh._

_Bakura: So much for that. Still, it was a good show while it lasted. Remember that one time when I said "I don't care"? Hilarious!_

_Marik: Yeah. I suppose there's only one thing left to do._

_Bakura: Right._

_(Music for the song "Stand by Me" begins. Marik and Bakura sing while Mega Ultra Chicken attacks.)_

_Melvin: Hear that, Florence? That's the sound of the fourth wall, collapsing! Any final remarks before your series concludes?_

_Bakura: Just the one. Tell my fangirls, I love them. (Vaporizes.)_

_Melvin: Ahahahahaha! Hey, LittleKuriboh, where's the new episode? Ahahahahahahahahaha!_

 

* * *

 

 

“Good going,” yelled Marik. “You let Melvin break the fourth wall!”

“Me? That was entirely your fault! You just floated there saying bloody stupid, unhelpful things!” said Bakura.

“Where the frig are we, anyway?” Marik spun around, attempting to discern where they were, but the darkness prevented him from seeing much. After several turns, he got dizzy and had to sit down.

Bakura rolled his eyes at Marik’s antics. “Gee, Marik. I don’t know. Where the bollocks do people _usually_ end up after losing a Shadow Game?”

“...Disneyland?”

“We’re in the Shadow Realm, you fool!”

Marik squinted into the Shadows. “I love all the purple, but they really need some light in here.”

“It’s the _Shadow Realm_.”

“That’s no excuse.”

Bakura closed his eyes and took calming breaths. “Forget that. Let’s just figure out a way out of here.”

“But, what about the show?” A large eyeball floated by, and Marik shrank back.

“What about it?”

“If it’s really been cancelled, what happens if we _do_ get back?”

“It—well…” Bakura paused, shrugging. “We’ll just do some Evil Council videos until the others figure it out.”

“How do we know those haven't been cancelled too?” asked Marik.

“Then you can just do a Let’s Play.”

“But what if—”

“Listen, Marik! There’s no sense in worrying about it until we get out of here. Right?”

“I suppose, but—do the Let’s Plays exist in the same world as the show?” asked Marik.

“What are you blathering on about?”

“Bakura, just earlier...you said ‘wasn't that a deleted scene?’ How did you know that?”

“I...I’m not...sure?” Bakura stared about at the surrounding darkness, as if it somehow held the answer.

“This is what I'm talking about. Because of Melvin breaking the fourth wall, our reality is coming apart!”

“Wait, so you're telling me…” Bakura looked like he was thinking hard. “...you're telling me _you_ were smart enough to figure that out? Perhaps the world really is coming to an end,” he added under his breath.

“ _Hey_! I’m always smart! And sexy! And _evil_!”

“Well, two out of three’s not bad.”

“Excuse me—wait, which two?” Marik said.

“In any case, our first priority should be to get out of here. We can worry about what to do next after that.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be Mr. Big Shot Shadows? _You_ get us out of here!” Marik exclaimed.

“If I knew how to do that, don't you think I bloody would have already?”

“Wait, I think I may have just the thing,” Marik said, eyes lighting up as if he'd just realized something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, glowing cube. “Here, it's the Quantum Cu—I mean, the Fanfic Device™!”

“The what? Where the hell did you get that?”

“Not sure. But it allows us to travel between dimensions.”

“How do you know it does that?”

“Because, shut up—wait, never mind. That’s Ishizu’s catch phrase...”

“You had something that powerful all this time and didn't tell me?”

“I didn't have it before! It only started existing recently when the new movie came out!”

_Meanwhile, in the Dark Side of Dimensions movie-verse:_

_“Where the hell is my Quantum Cube?!” cried Seto._

“I...see what you mean about our world breaking apart,” Bakura said.

“See? I am smart, Bakura. Now apologize to my sexy brain.”

Bakura groaned and rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “Why do I have to be trapped here with such an idiot?” he grumbled.

“By the way, where are all the naked people?”

“What?”

“Zorc said all the people in the Shadow Realm are naked.”

A lecherous grin stretched across Bakura’s lips. “Well, if you _want_ to get naked…”

“Never mind! Let's figure out how this works.”

They both glanced at the strange, glowing Cube.

“So …” Bakura frowned. “Is there a button or a trick of some sort?”

“Ooh! Hey, what happened to this part?” Marik poked the broken corner.

“Marik, don’t touch—!”

“Oops.”

A beam shot out from the Cube, lighting up a square of shadows like a projector playing old home movies.

“I told you this place would look better with some light!”

“What’s it showing us?” Bakura asked, ignoring Marik.

They both peered at the light, and images started to flash and then disappear. They saw themselves, mostly, as well as some others from the show’s regular cast. In each scene they had different outfits, different hair styles, and sometimes they were indoors and sometimes outside—the time period and location never seemed the same.

“Wait a frig! Is that us?”

“Sure looks like it.”

“What are we doing on this screen thingy?” Marik glared at Bakura. “You haven’t been filming us, have you?”

“Marik, I’m in the bloody shot! How could I be filming?”

They turned back to the screen as more images sped past.

“I look amazing in that outfit!” Marik cheered. “Hey, it’s gone. Bring that one back!”

The blur of images slowed and then started to rewind, pausing at the image that Marik wanted to see.

“Marik, that’s the same outfit you’re wearing now.”

“Yeah, but look at my butt. It looks incredible!”

Bakura leaned back and did exactly that. “Sure does.”

Marik seemed to ignore him and squinted at the next image that cycled through. “So, if that's us, then that means…” Marik paused, his face going blank as he tried to work out how to end his sentence.

“Well, you said that device allows us to travel between dimensions, so…”

“So that _is_ us! Other versions of us, at least, in other realities.” Marik nodded to himself, satisfied with his conclusion.

“Well, that works out well, then. If our reality is coming apart, we can just go to one of these others...right?”

“How would I know?”

“Because you're the one who managed to acquire that bloody device! I'd expect you’d have some clue how it works.”

“It’s not as if it came with a manual.”

“Maybe it works like a touch screen.” Bakura reached out, but Marik pulled him back.

“Wait, I want to pick where we go!”

“Whatever, as long as we get the bloody hell out of here.”

Marik’s face beamed as he looked at a few of the options. The Cube displayed a long row of universes. One could scroll forward or backward, looking at the center universe while several others sat partially visible on each side.

As various scenes scrolled before them, Bakura spotted a flash of flesh. “Whoa, whoa, go back!”

As if it could understand, the slideshow reversed and stopped. Nestled between a few less graphic images was a preview of Marik and Bakura entwined, both naked save for Marik in his flamboyant crop top.

“Um, Marik, I want to go there.”

“But, but….this other one shows us on a picnic! I want some of that pie, Bakura! I demand you get me some!”

But Bakura wasn’t listening, too busy prodding the Cube. “How do we unmute this thing?”

A tiny _bleep_ sounded, followed immediately by loud moans emanating from the center image.

“Oh, hey, it’s voice activated,” Marik commented. “Neat.”

“Go back to where they take off their clothes,” Bakura instructed, eyes devouring the vision.

Another small _bleep_ , then the scene rewound. Clothes flew to their counterparts as if pulled by the an invisible force and they jumped from the bed to stand across from each other in what looked like an average hotel room.

“Bakoooraaaa! We’re supposed to be picking a world to go to.”

“Yes, and I’ve clearly made my choice.”

“But I don’t want to go to—”

“Shhh! I want to see this.”

Bakura watched and listened as their counterparts on the screen had a discussion. The Marik in the scene was accusing his Bakura of underestimating him, thinking he was naive enough to be manipulated through sex, but the Marik on the screen seemed to be making it clear that he would be the one in charge, and told Bakura to _take off his fucking clothes_.

Bakura leaned a bit closer, feeling a stirring in his gut at the other Marik’s commanding tone. Then his own doppelgänger started to grind up against Marik’s, and Bakura’s heart beat a tad faster.

“Fluffy,” Marik said, shuffling his feet, “this one is making me feel weird.”

Bakura glanced at Marik and licked his lips. “Oh? Is it like your yaoi comics?”

Marik’s face turned red. “Cube, I command you to show us something else!”

That quickly, the parade of images started back up, focusing on a scene of the two of them nuzzled close together in a shared bed. Bakura appeared to be comforting a distraught Marik.

“Wait, I wasn’t done watching that!”

“Aw, but look at this one, Fluffy! We’re having a slumber party.”

“I liked the _other_ slumber party better,” Bakura grumbled.

But they both watched as the scene moved along, seeing the projected image of Bakura cuddle Marik and soothe away his night terrors, assuring him he wasn’t going anywhere. Their counterparts lay down, and as the moment stretched on, Bakura noticed that their roles seemed to have switched and Marik’s alternate began comforting his.

Bakura felt heat rush to his cheeks as he observed his alternate admitting to his own sleep problems, and then settling down into Marik’s arms and allowing himself to be coddled.

“This sappy stuff is bollocks. Let’s go back to the other one,” Bakura snapped. Reaching over, Bakura tried to take the device from Marik, but Marik struggled to keep his grip.

“No, I like this one!”

“Too sodding bad! We’re going to the other one.”

“I command you to let go!”

“No!” Bakura reached out his free hand to touch the image of them mid-coitus as the scenes wavered back and forth with their struggles.

“Wait!” Marik’s hand wrapped around Bakura’s wrist as Bakura went to make his selection. In the struggle, both of their hands happened to brush against one of the images framing Bakura’s objective. Suddenly the slideshow was replaced with a gaping white hole that was blinding against the relentless shadows surrounding them.

“Now look what you did!” Marik accused.

“Me? You moved my hand at the last second! What did you even choose?”

“Um...I’m not sure?”

Bakura huffed, poking the Cube, still in Marik’s unrelenting grip, and tried to go back. “Abort. Belay that. Go back! _Take us to the sex scen_ e!”

Nothing.

“I don’t think this thing knows takesies-backies,” Marik said.

“I don’t think that’s even a real thing, Marik.”

“Is too! Google it!”

“Ugh, whatever. I guess we’ll just have to go through and see where it leads.”

“On three?” Marik asked.

“Sure. One…”

“Two…” Marik continued.

“Three!” they said together, jumping through the portal until the light eclipsed even the all-consuming darkness of the Shadow Realm. Then they were gone, transported from their own universe into some other, unknown world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fics referenced in this chapter:
> 
>  
> 
> [Dressing Down by LadyBlackwell](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7086744/1/Dressing-Down)
> 
>  
> 
> [Dreams and Nightmares by Jem Kallop](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10694282/1/Dreams-and-Nightmares)
> 
>  
> 
> We plan to update this fic every Friday.
> 
>  
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Random keyboard mashing because words could never adequately convey your feels
> 

> 
> This author sees and appreciates all comments and tries to reply to all of them.
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by [Kamy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamy2425)

A rift was cut open on what seemed to be the ceiling of an endless void of white. The two thieves emerged from the portal and were shot down to the empty floor. Around them, the background finally caught up, starting to appear as if a flow of colors was concentrated on a brush-like medium filling up their surroundings. Now Bakura and Marik were surrounded by trees, and the countless voices of city-goers filled the scene.

“Ow! I landed on my Rod!”

Marik was the first to recover. He rubbed his prized butt, which was sore from the fall. He finally rose up to look over to where his partner had landed. Bakura was grunting, face flat on the concrete, but Marik could already tell something about the thief looked strange.

“B-Bakura!”

Their shapes were different. No longer bound to their pretty-boy anime forms, they were shorter. Their bodies were now thin, especially their necks, and their heads were larger in size. Marik looked down at his hands: his beautiful nail work was gone, replaced with four soft, tiny fingers. And their eyes…their beautiful, large, complex anime eyes had completely changed to little black dashes on their faces.

As Bakura finally woke up, he scratched his injured head and asked, “What are you yelling about, Marik?”

“You’re just…you're…cute!”

Bakura’s larger-than-normal batwings rose up. “What?! I am not— “

Out of instinct, Bakura quickly gazed down at the little bitty hands he now had. He moved them one by one, still not believing what he was seeing. He looked around in a panic until he saw the window of a coffee shop. Bakura ran toward it and stopped to look at this new version of himself. _It can’t be_ , Bakura thought. _I am a 3,000-year-old spirit! The King of Thieves! Darkness itself! That can’t be cute…can it?_

Marik finally caught up and slammed his hand onto Bakura’s back with a laugh. “I know, right? How can I, Marik Sebastian Ishtar the Third, be sexy _and_ cute?! It should be illegal!”

 _Oh, you’ll find a way_ , thought Bakura. He gave up looking at himself and finally observed Marik’s new looks more closely. More importantly, he stared at his ass…just in case. At first, he giggled in guilty silence at the cutesy-looking butt. However, the longer he stared at it, and the more lust he felt from the sight, the more the butt came into focus, becoming more detailed and sexy.

Bakura felt his eyes becoming wider and his face turn completely red. The flushed kitty shook his head. “This place is too odd. Let’s pick a dimension where the proportions are decent and less…cartoony.”

“Right.”

They both stood there, waiting for a portal to open up and for the lightshow to appear.

Bakura turned to Marik. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Marik, where’s the Cube?”

“I thought you had it.”

“Oh great…how on Earth could you lose a large dimension-traveling cube?!” Bakura yelled.

Suddenly, a voice laughed in the background, causing the thieves to shut up for the moment.

“Hehehehe, looking for this?”

They looked up and saw a weird looking character standing on a light pole. The first things they settled their eyes on were the strange extra arms on the being. Something within Bakura felt part of Zorc’s dark energy within the creature, which he wanted to deny. Marik, on the other hand, noticed that the being had a tan similar to his. The being was also wearing a darker purple version of Marik’s favorite sleeveless top, as well as Bakura’s evil trench coat.

The stranger was the first to start speaking. “This is very shiny! I’m keeping it!”

The being showed the Cube to the other two and then started to throw it up and down as if it were a baseball. He threw it to his other hands before hiding it in his coat pocket.

“Name’s Ishka! I’m the fused version of Bakura and Marik! Their hatred keeps me strong! And _very_ much alive!”

“You…mean…” Bakura started.

“You’re fused…together?” Marik finished.

“Uh-Huh.” Ishka couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as he proudly presented his Millennium Sounding Staff, a new item created by merging both the Ring and the Rod. Ishka finger-gunned at the side of his head. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what we’re doing inside.”

Marik was the first to respond. “Eugh…that’s gross!”

“Melvin would say you think otherwise…” Bakura said under his breath.

“Shut up, Bakura. He doesn’t know anything about me!”

“Marik, we’re not starting this again!”

Ishka chuckled menacingly as his body melted into his own shadow beneath him. Both Marik and Bakura jumped in surprise as the shadow disappeared and reappeared like a land shark made of darkness. They had let their guards down, and Bakura had forgotten that Ishka was _them_ in some way. It wasn’t wise to not be suspicious of him.

“Where the frig are we?!”

Marik and Bakura now faced in opposite directions, their backs pressed against each other.

“Apparently this dimension loves Steven Universe a lot,” Bakura said, “so it has a fusion concept of us.”

“Oh, I love that show! But you’ve got to admit, Bakura, we’re really pulling off the sexy _and_ the British!”

“Huh, that we are…” Bakura became flustered, but he didn’t care as he bent slightly closer to Marik’s ear. “You know, Marik? Maybe we could try it...”

“What?”

“You know… _fusing_.”

Ishka suddenly reappeared from the ground, angered since he was not the focus of their attention. He held up the Cube again and slid his fingers over the scenes that had now appeared on it.

“So! Different dimensions! That’s exciting! And they all look like anime! Hehehe, I wonder how I’d look in any of them…”

Marik bumped Bakura’s shoulder. “Bakura, do something.”

“Me? What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, stall him! Or tell him a story until he’s bored to death, just do something!”

Bakura growled as he stepped closer to Ishka.

Bakura admired the kind of power and intimidation that their counterparts had obtained in this world. He had to give credit to this being. The agility, the strength, the looks! Aside from this cutesy environment, this world had some dark twists of its own. Bakura crossed his arms and gave his signature smirk to the creature, already intrigued at its potential.

“So! What is your plan against the Pharaoh, Ishka?”

The Thiefshipping fusion laughed, and its sharp tone made Bakura quiver in excitement. He could hear a slight hint of the voices of his and Marik's doppelgängers resonating in sync within the being that had been created by their pure lust and hatred.

“I’m going…” The fusion purposely paused, his grin full of sharp teeth becoming ten times larger…literally. This was the only world where that could actually happen. Its whole face was nothing but teeth by this point.

“To…call on…an army of…ghost bunnies, and _haunt Yugi’s socks_!”

A lighting bolt shocked Bakura, figuratively this time. _There’s no way this counterpart of mine would actually think that is a good idea—_

“ _That_ …is the most _evilest_ and _cleverest_ idea ever!” Marik exclaimed.

The fusion turned to Marik, grinning like a little kid. “You really think so?”

“Yes! It’s so evil!”

Bakura sneaked behind the fusion and then signaled for Marik to continue.

“Have you guys tried to go to his Youtube— “

“Oh, yes! That’s the first thing we did! We even went into his computer to see his browsing history, _hahahaha_! Don’t…don’t do that. It was a horrible idea…”

“Ha!”

Bakura slammed himself into the fusion and put him into a choke hold. It didn’t work for long before the extra limbs of the creature pushed him off. Still, Bakura wrestled the being, trying to get his hands on the Cube.

From Marik’s perspective, the fight took place in a puff of smoke, and he was unable to see anything besides the dust cloud.

Suddenly, another cloud took over, this one looking like an explosion.

Poof!

After it disintegrated, duplicates of both Bakura and Marik were left dazed on the ground. The original Marik couldn’t help but chuckle as he saw the little bodies still holding hands while unconscious.

Bakura sighed and walked over to their doppelgängers. “So…the Cube?”

The lookalike Marik struggled to shuffle his hand into his pocket and then finally retrieved the Cube. He held it up to Bakura, and as soon as Bakura took it, the cartoonish Marik's arm collapsed onto the ground again.

Bakura sighed with relief and began to search for a different dimension. After a few different images rotated, Bakura managed to find a good one and opened the portal.

As they stepped toward the rift, Bakura stepped aside so Marik could jump in first. “After you.”

Marik couldn’t help but snort at the gesture. “You know, I think this dimension has made you soft!”

Bakura growled. “Just get in.”

“I didn’t think it was possible to make you even more fluffy— ”

Bakura pushed the Egyptian into the portal, and then followed himself. Hopefully, the next universe they ended up in wouldn’t be so odd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by [Kamy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamy2425) with Marik and Bakura visiting her [Fusion-verse Comic](https://kamy2425.deviantart.com)
> 
> Thanks to Kamy for participating and writing this chapter! Everyone should check out Kamy's fics and art!
> 
> We still plan to update this fic every Friday.
> 
>  
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Random keyboard mashing because words could never adequately convey your feels
> 

> 
> This author sees and appreciates all comments and tries to reply to all of them.
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by [BananaGhoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaGhoul/pseuds/BananaGhoul%22)

With a burst of light, their portal ripped through the ceiling of a darkened room, unceremoniously spilling Marik and Bakura onto the cold, quartz-tiled floor below.

“ _For frig's sake_!” The words were squeezed from Marik's lungs as Bakura's weight crashed hard against him. He had landed in a precarious position: chest firmly pressed into Marik's, their waists pinned together, noses barely a centimeter apart. Dizzied, Bakura could barely will himself to move—not that he was _opposed_ to staying where he was...

“A little less _shojo manga_ and a little more _let me breathe_ , Bakura!”

Managing to roll off to the side, Bakura rubbed his eyes as the room slowly halted its spinning.

Marik climbed to his feet, using a desk beside him for support. Hands outstretched, he twisted around to inspect his own backside and then smirked. “Oh, I can get behind these proportions.”

“But can you get behind _my_ proportions?” Bakura grinned as the spots cleared from his vision.

“You’re still shorter than me, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Marik said simply. He placed a hand on his hip and peered at their surroundings.

An eerie silence buzzed through the air. Ahead of him lay rows upon rows of black computer screens, save for a single glowing monitor in the row closest to a door at the front of the room. As the room stretched back farther, it plunged deeper into darkness.

“Aren't we supposed to be running into our alternate universe selves or something?”

Bakura stood up and brushed the dust off of his jeans. “Let's count it as a blessing, Marik.” He took a step toward the single lit monitor. “If we’ve learned anything from that last dimension, it's that we cannot trust the locals.”

Marik followed Bakura to the computer and inspected the all-too-familiar image that served as a screensaver: a blue dragon curled around the letters K and C.

“ _KaibaCorp_?” Marik cocked an eyebrow. “Why would we be in KaibaCorp?”

“Don't tell me this is one of those bloody unpaid intern alternate universes,” Bakura scoffed, placing a hand on his hip. It was the only real explanation he could imagine.

“I mean, it _is_ basic physics, Bakura. For every universe, there's always an unpaid intern version,” Marik reasoned.

Bakura mused that thought over. “Well, it's better than those academy alternate universes.” He cringed. “Those always leave a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Ha! The only academy you need is one where you can learn how to actually be evil, like I am.”

“I would say I’m _plenty_ evil,” Bakura responded, his brow twitching.

“ _Anyway_.” Turning his attention back to the computer, Marik rested his hand on the mouse. “Do you think they have minesweeper on this—?”

Just before he could finish his sentence, Bakura threw his hand over Marik's mouth, catching him off guard. “Will you quiet down?” he hissed. “I hear voices on the other side of the door, and they sound just like ours.”

They waited a few beats as the voices drew nearer, Bakura's hand still secured against Marik's lips. Unsure of where to go or what to do, their muscles were frozen in place. A distinct set of Marik-like cackles erupted from outside. While they waited in silence, Bakura began to whisper, “Marik, just remember that we shouldn’t completely trust—”

And suddenly the entrance swung open. “So then I was like, 'Okay but you're wrong because the Golden Girls Buzzfeed survey said— _what the frig?_!”

The two stood wide-eyed as they faced this new, Unpaid Intern Marik. Bakura's hand dropped away from his Marik’s face.

And then another voice came, one that was unmistakably Bakura.

“What is it, Marik?” He came to a sudden halt when he noticed them. “ _What in the bloody_ —?”

“This is just like that one Harry Potter movie!” Alternate Dimension Marik exclaimed from the doorway. He made a beeline toward the original Marik and looked him up and down carefully, leaning curiously to the side so he could study The Goods. “Are you from the future? Are you here to save Buckbeak?”

For a long moment, Original Marik stared at the reflection of himself, eyes lingering on his alternate self's ass as his own was examined. When it earned his stamp of approval, he straightened up in posture and cleared his throat. “Precisely!” He cracked a wide grin. “I am from the future and therefore you should obey me!”

Original Bakura shot him a harsh glance and then his gaze fell on his alternate self.

The two Bakuras stared each other down like a pair of alley cats, bat wings noticeably erect. In unison they folded their arms and then unfolded them just as quickly, their stares growing more intense.

“Well, this is awkward.” The original Bakura sniffed, though he couldn't help but notice something _off_ about this alternate dimension version of himself. The Unpaid Intern Bakura was noticeably more frail, and somehow paler. Sickly, in a way. And to top it off, Bakura couldn't help but notice the empty space on his chest where the Millennium Ring should have rested.

Unpaid Intern Marik interrupted their moment. “Bakura, Future Marik has a better ass than me!”

“He doesn't, I checked,” the alternate universe Bakura replied smoothly, a matter-of-fact smirk on his lips.

“It's about the same, honestly,” Original Bakura broke in, as he glanced back and forth between the two Mariks. A hostile air sparked between them.

The original Marik’s brow twitched as he shifted his weight to his right side. “How dare you say my ass is _just as fine_ as someone else’s—even if that someone else _is_ me!” He pointed indignantly.

Original Bakura pinched the bridge of his nose. “ _This is going well_ ,” he muttered sarcastically between gritted teeth.

The glow of the computer screen radiated across the Original Marik and Bakura's skin as they faced themselves. Bakura's hand gripped the Cube tightly at his side, ready to use it if they needed to make a quick getaway.

“So, like,” the Unpaid Intern Marik piped up, “is this supposed to turn into one of those impromptu foursomes you see in fanfiction all the time?”

“Considering we all have the same names, I can see that being very confusing to write—as if this isn't already,” Unpaid Intern Bakura responded, taking a moment to catch his breath after he finished speaking.

Original Bakura snickered. “Ooh, I’m sure it’s been done. Do the words ‘Rule 34’ mean anything to you?”

Before anyone could respond, the alternate dimension Marik gasped suddenly, his eyes somehow more alive than normal. “Future Bakura has the Millennium Ring!” The words tripped out of his mouth as his head snapped in his Bakura’s direction. “You should take it!”

Original Bakura stepped backward, eyes flicking over to his alternate self as his hand reached protectively for his gaydar.

“Marik, if that’s my _futrure_ self, that means I’ll get it back eventually.”

“Okay, but what if this _is_ like Harry Potter and he's coming back to the past to _give you_ the Ring so we can succeed?!”

Original Marik quickly broke in. “That wouldn't happen because Bakura is too lame to watch Harry Potter.”

Unpaid Intern Marik touched his chin, considering this heavily. “Good point.”

“The point is,” Unpaid Intern Bakura interjected, choosing to ignore them, “I'm going to get the Ring back.” As he said this, his eyes rested on the Millennium Ring, and a faint gleam of what could have been hope appeared in his eyes, though it was short-lived.

It suddenly made more sense to Original Bakura: the exhausted appearance, the missing Millennium Ring and talk of getting it back...these two weren't in KaibaCorp at this hour just for fun, that was for sure...and he sure as hell knew they weren't there to willingly work for Kaiba. He grimaced. He couldn’t imagine _Kaiba_ wanting to work for Kaiba.

“Then why in the frig are you here?” Unpaid Intern Marik spoke up, watching them closely.

Original Marik cleared his throat. “The reason we have come back to the past is to tell you your key to success!” His tone rose and fell eerily, as if he were telling a ghost story. The original Bakura rubbed his temples as he waited for his Marik to continue. “And that key is... admitting that I am _much_ sexier and even—”

Bakura elbowed him in the ribs.

“Ouch! Geez, _that_ was rude, Bakura. See if I give you a present for Christmas this year!” He cleared his throat, relishing the excited look in his alternate version's face. “The key to success is...finding out if this computer has minesweeper!”

Alternate Marik's eyes were wide with excitement as he skipped around the long desk to look at the screen. The two Mariks beheld the glow of the KaibaCorp logo with mystified gazes.

“Marik, I really don't think—” both Bakuras said in unison and then pressed their lips in a firm line, leering at each other.

“Chill out, Bakura,” both Mariks said to their corresponding partners in crime.

As they unfroze the computer, they came to a password lock screen and quickly got to work, guessing whatever word or phrase Kaiba could have possibly dreamt up to secure the system.

For a moment, it felt as if the line between their universes had blurred itself. This world was strange and mirror-like...though to the original Bakura, it was different in a lot of subtle ways. Simply gazing upon the alternate version of himself was enough to cement that observation.

As the two Mariks took turns trying different ridiculous passwords, Unpaid Intern Bakura couldn't help but smirk and nudge the original in the side, eyebrows raised. “I have to admit, I'm curious as to how the sex is.”

Original Bakura choked on his own saliva, staring himself in the face. “The—the...the sex?” He managed to keep his surprised response quiet. Even so, the two Mariks were having too much fun typing things like _DragonDong69_ into the computer to even notice.

Unpaid Intern Bakura cocked an eyebrow. “I mean, we _do_ have sex, right? I have a feeling it will be tonight—”

Original Bakura coughed into his arm to conceal the redness in his cheeks. “I don't know, Marik,” he called out to his Marik. “Do we?”

“Yeah, sure, Bakura—” Marik responded absentmindedly, clearly unaware of their topic of conversation. “ _Pffft_! Try _TittyDragon_!”

“So?” the Unpaid Intern Bakura responded. “How is it?”

Original Bakura swallowed, intentionally keeping his eyes on the ground. “It's—It's...”

“I've got to be honest: the way things are going, I wasn't sure I would be able to make it this far.” Unpaid Intern Bakura chuckled to himself. “Even now I feel like I could die any moment.”

“You certainly look the part,” the original of the two smirked, relieved by the change in subject.

Unpaid Intern Bakura scratched the back of his neck and sighed. “Let's skip the pretenses. I know you're not from the future, and I don't really care why you're actually here—I mean unless this is some Terminator bullshit and you've come back in time to kill us—in that case you can sod off.” He leaned back against the desk nearest him. “But I think it's given him hope.” He eyed his Marik, who was attempting to shove the other Marik away from the keyboard. “Gods, I must be so high right now.”

After their tenth failed attempt to access the computer, Unpaid Intern Marik groaned. “We're probably over-thinking this.”

“I know, it's probably something stupid, like _BlueEyes_.” Original Marik rolled his eyes.  
Just then, the Unpaid Intern Marik’s face lit up and he quickly typed it into the field. “ _It worked_!”

Original Bakura grinned at himself. “Unfortunately, you're perfectly sober.”

Instead of a typical desktop view, the computer opened up to a database filled with images of various KaibaCorp employees. The Unpaid Intern Marik scrolled endlessly through the list. “Well, this is boring.”

“No, look! Click on that guy!” Original Marik pointed to the screen.

“Holy Ra, I can edit his shit!”

“Rename him Harry Balls! Future Marik commands you!”

“I'll name him Harry Balls _if I want_ to name him Harry Balls!” Unpaid Intern Marik declared as he typed _Harry Balls_ into the name field, laughing gleefully as he finalized the changes.

The Unpaid Intern Bakura sighed, shaking his head. “Well, I doubt there's anything else that's of use to us in here, Marik. We should be on our way.”

“Would you quiet down, Bakura?” both Mariks responded at once. The two Bakuras gave each other deadpan expressions rather than responding.

The alternate dimension Bakura nodded to his original universe counterpart. “Well, it was nice chatting. I hope we both get laid sometime soon. Let's go, Marik.”

“Oh, come on, five more minutes!”

“You forget we've essentially broken into this bloody place. We need to go.”

Unpaid Intern Marik glared in his direction and then quickly whispered something to the original Marik, both of the two grinning as he did so. They suddenly nodded in agreement.  
The Unpaid Intern Bakura took a few steps toward the door, exchanging knowing glances with the original universe’s Bakura. “Marik, if you don’t hurry up I’m having our cable subscription cancelled.”

“Come on, a little originality, Bakura—you used that one last week,” the Unpaid Intern Marik responded, though he still made his way to the front of the room. He gave a quick thumbs up to Original Marik as they reached the door.

As they exited, Unpaid Intern Marik cackled to himself. “Gee, I sure hope something inconvenient isn’t going to happen once we leave this room! Like, _seeing Mokuba_ , or something. Wouldn’t that be unexpected?”

“It’s almost as if you’ve read the script,” Unpaid Intern Bakura remarked casually while he twisted the latch.

“ _Please_ , I _am_ the script!”

And the door shut behind them.

In that instant, Bakura already had the Cube queued up and ready to go as he flipped through the alternate dimensions like TV channels.

“Hold on, Bakura! Don’t pick one, I’m not done yet,” Marik whined. His eyes were focused on the screen before him.

“Oh?” Bakura turned to look at his partner, expression unamused. “Don’t tell me you’ve found minesweeper.”

Marik shook his head as he clumsily typed something into a field Bakura couldn’t make out from his position. “I’m doing him a favor.”

Eyebrow cocked, Bakura attempted to look over Marik’s shoulder. “What favor was that?”  
“Gods, Bakura, nosy much?” Marik clicked _Accept Changes_ and swiveled around. “Just read the friggin story to find out.”

“What story?”

Just then, a window popped up on the monitor. “Changes can take up to 24 hours to fully implement. Restarting the system to begin making changes in 3… 2…1….” And the screen went black.

“Anyway,” Marik said as he attempted to look over the dimensions Bakura had been eying, “I hope you’re looking for one where I’ll have the better ass.”

“Ah, yes, that was right at the top of my priority list,” Bakura replied.

Finally settling on a new dimension, he gestured for Marik to go first but was met with an unamused glare. “Oh, no you don’t. I’m not letting you land on me again. I almost _died_.”

Bakura sighed. “I’ll wait a few seconds before following you through this time.”

“Promise?”

“Just get in the damn portal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written by [BananaGhoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaGhoul/pseuds/BananaGhoul%22) with Marik and Bakura visiting her fic [Unpaid Interns](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5212334/chapters/12016868)
> 
> Thanks to Nanners for participating and writing this chapter! Everyone should check out her fanfics!
> 
>  
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Random keyboard mashing because words could never adequately convey your feels
> 

> 
> This author sees and appreciates all comments and tries to reply to all of them.
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by [ImGettingTooOldForThisShip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImGettingTooOldForThisShip/pseuds/ImGettingTooOldForThisShip)

It was the third time today that Bakura had experienced the sensation of falling, yet he still hadn’t gotten used to it. It was extra disorientating plummeting between worlds: something akin to the confusing, existential terror one felt when they thought they were safely at the bottom of the stairs and suddenly found themselves falling, having missed the last two. That’s what bloody dimension hopping did to you.

Everything was scalding white for a moment, and then all at once the light was gone. He blinked his eyes slowly as he attempted to look about him, but it made no difference. There was only inky blackness and nothing else.

“Marik?”

They couldn’t have gotten separated, could they? He felt around, attempting to get up and stand on the uneven surface, but it kept moving underneath him, making the task difficult. He grimaced as he felt around. The ground was warm, soft even, like flesh. What kind of—?

“Baph-koora,” the floor mumbled incoherently. “I seb got dee frog doff!”

Bakura grinned as it all came together, and shifted his weight further back to his haunches as he attempted to find a more stable way to support himself without crushing Marik.

“Finally! Geez,” Marik said, catching his breath. “You were squishing my face into the rug.”

“You should have gotten out of the way before I arrived then.”

“You didn’t give me enough time.”

“I counted to three,” Bakura insisted innocently, wishing that he could have seen the expression on his face.

“Three Mississippis?”

Bakura smirked. “Whoops.”

“Well you can get off me now,” Marik instructed as he squirmed under Bakura to free himself, bucking his hips up in an attempt to shake the weight off. Bakura quickly bit his lip to suppress a surprised whimper as Marik’s backside grinded against his crotch and, acting against every instinct he had, he desperately sought to put some space between them.

“It would be easier if you stopped moving around,” Bakura snapped, throwing a hand down to keep Marik’s ass pinned to the ground. He reached his other hand out, feeling around for the texture of the rug and a safe place to put his weight down, but he only ever seemed to come across one of Marik’s stray limbs.

“Bakura, your hand is on my butt,” Marik piped up, still squirming under Bakura’s hold.

“Well it’s dark. I can’t see.”

“Then use the Fanfic Device™ thingy to get some light in here.”

“Fine, just give me a second.” Bakura patted himself down trying to remember what he’d done with it.

“It’s probably in your pocket,” Marik cheerfully informed him. “I can feel it poking me in the hip.”

All at once Bakura felt his face burn with crimson. “Ummmm…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

There was no time to verbalise a protest before Marik threw his hand into the front pocket of Bakura’s jeans and rummaged around. Bakura immediately tensed up, scared to move; he was half worried that Marik’s hand might brush against something else, and half excited that there was the possibility that it could.

“Ha! Found it,” Marik declared, pulling the Cube out from the pocket and flooding the room with an amber glow which threw distorted shadows up the sandstone walls.

Bakura frowned in confusion. It looked like the atrium to some tomb, with the hieroglyphics etched as a border around the top of the room, but the chrome towel radiator on the wall, white fluffy rug and whirlpool bath in the corner suggested they were in a luxury bathroom instead.

“Bakura?”

Bakura glanced down at Marik curiously.

“Are you getting up?”

He hastily stumbled backward, and stood up to get away from him, hoping that his blush couldn’t be spotted in the glow as he looked around the room. It was a luxury bathroom, no expense spared of course, which all clashed horrifically with the ancient architecture of the room.

“This has to be your bathroom.” Bakura smirked as he examined the shelf above the porcelain sink that was packed full of every kind of product imaginable. He picked up a diamond studded lilac mug with ‘World’s Greatest Villain’ printed on the side. Although it did contain two toothbrushes, he noted as he set it back.

“Hey, Bakura! We could tell campfire stories,” Marik enthused, holding the glowing Cube under his chin to distort his face with shadows. “Once, there was a fangirl with an obsession for angst, and she–”

“Bakura, you’re finally awake!”

The two froze and glanced over to the door. Either Marik had suddenly mastered the art of ventriloquism or their counterparts were nearby.

Marik carefully pushed the bathroom door ajar and peered out.

“Well, should we introduce ourselves?” Bakura asked.

“Eh, maybe not. They look busy.”

“Busy?”

“They’re in bed.”

That certainly gave Bakura pause for thought. “Wait, what do you mean they’re busy? _Busy_ -busy, or getting busy?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Well, are they doing their laundry or are they doing… each other?”

“It looks more like the last one.”

Bakura was at Marik’s side in an instant and pushed him out of the way to get a better look through the gap. Marik gave up his spot reluctantly, and chose to lean over Bakura to watch instead, resting his chin on the top of his head. He reached up to flatten Bakura’s batwings down with his hands to get a better view.

Sure enough, their doppelgängers were indeed in bed together, although they were still clothed, unfortunately; yet there was something uncannily disturbing about the scene before them. His other self was in his usual irritable morning spirits while the other Marik hugged his own knees and chatted away oblivious—nothing new there, but little details were off. This Marik was wearing one of Bakura’s old baggy t-shirts that swamped his body; the Marik spying with him through the door would never be caught dead in anything that would hide his perfect body from the world. Yet, Bakura found something appealing about the scenario that he couldn’t quite place.

The other Bakura, with a mane of morning hair freshly tousled from sleep, was just as odd. He seemed a little less grumpy than usual, almost playful, and Bakura watched, amazed, as his other self pushed Marik back into the pillows and whispered into his ear. Bakura waited for his alternate to be pushed off and spurned with some ridiculous comment like _Now’s not the time for a wrestling match, Fluffy_ , but it never came. If anything, the other Marik seemed to be enjoying the attention.

“Huh, this must be one of those parallel universes where I’m gay.” Marik laughed nervously. Bakura didn’t respond, entranced by the sight of his other self trailing kisses down his partner’s neck and then…

The scene disappeared and Bakura found himself looking at the door.

“It’s rude to spy on other people,” Marik declared.

“It’s not other people; it’s literally us,” Bakura reminded him. “I want to see if that was going somewhere.”

He reached out to open the door again, earning a tap on the wrist for his efforts.

“Come on, they aren’t doing anything interesting,” Marik moaned, holding the Fanfic Device™ up again. “Let’s see what else is on.”

“Stop,” Bakura instructed, holding onto Marik’s arm to prevent him from activating it. “This is multiverse interdimensional travel. We should take our time between jumps, not go channel hopping like it’s daytime television.”

“Well I’m not hiding in the frigging bathroom, Bakura,” Marik told him. “If we’re staying here, we should go out and talk to them.”

Bakura hesitated, loath to be his own cock-blocker, even if it was another version of himself. “We should let them finish,” he decided.

“And go out after?” Marik asked. “Then they’ll know we were watching them, and that’s pretty frigging weird.”

“And how the hell will it look if we just walk in in the middle of them fu—”

The bathroom light clicked on, illuminating the room properly. The alternate version of Marik stood in the doorway, still holding the light cord in his hand as he looked between them.

Bakura exchanged looks with his Marik, who looked a little sheepish at being caught. Well, this certainly saved them an argument.

“See, Bakura,” Marik’s twin called back from the doorway. “I told you I could hear voices.”

“What? Who is it?”

“Cosplayers,” the other Marik called back as his Bakura arrived at his side. “Did you leave the window open again?”

“We live in a tomb, Marik. We don’t have any bloody windows,” Bakura grumbled, looking the intruders over suspiciously. “For cosplayers they certainly are quite… authentic.”

“Eh, I’ve seen better.”

“We’re not cosplayers,” the original Marik insisted with a pout. “This is all just a dream.” He waved his arms about in an attempt to convince them of the mystery. “An incredibly sexy dream.”

“No, no, no,” the other Bakura insisted. “There’s already been a dream sequence.”

“I don’t remember that. When did we have a dream sequence?” the alternate Marik asked.

“At the very start, back when everything was in italics.”

“You dream in italics?” Marik asked, a flash of envy in his eyes. “I wish I had dreams like that.”

“Yes, well, it’s not as exciting as it sounds.”

Bakura noticed that his alternate was rubbing carefully at his arm. This wasn’t a smut fic; it looked far more like a typical hurt/comfort fluff fic—they really hadn’t been interrupting much at all, then.

“If you’re not a dream, then what are you doing here?” the other Marik asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Were you spying on us?”

“No, I wanted to leave,” Marik insisted. “But Bakura—”

“—thought we shouldn’t interrupt,” Bakura quickly finished for him, “and just slip out after.”

“So you were just going to wait in the bathroom until we were finished?” the other Marik asked. “That’s pretty frigging weird.”

“Thank you, that’s what I said,” Marik declared triumphantly, grinning smugly at the original Bakura. “Marik: 1, Fluffy: 0.”

“So what _are_ you doing here?” the other Bakura asked.

“Standing around in the bloody bathroom, apparently,” Bakura said sourly. “Are you going to let us through?”

His counterpart glanced across to his own Marik and back pointedly.

“It isn’t a good time,” he stressed.

“Nonsense, Fluffy,” the other Marik declared, dragging them out of the bathroom. “The more the merrier.”

Bakura’s alternate gave a sly smile. “Are you suggesting a fourso—”

“No, you’ve already made that joke,” the original Marik interrupted. “Well, the other you did. Other, other you. Geez, Bakura, is sex the only thing your alternate versions think about?”

“Oh, it’s not just my alternates,” Bakura grumbled, but Marik’s selective hearing appeared to have kicked in again, and he became distracted with the other Marik’s clothing choices.

“It’s not form fitting at all. Why would you hide our body under a shapeless tent like that?”

“Please, I could wear a bin bag and make it look flattering. You wouldn’t be able to pull this look off.”

“You’re not missing out on much,” Bakura reassured his double as the two bickered. “Two Mariks sounds good in theory, but in practice it’s just a lot of this.”

“I’d be happy just to get one of them alone to myself.” His alternate smirked. “Your timing wasn’t exactly perfect.”

“No, we aren’t swapping Bakuras,” Marik piped up. “Mine compliments my natural sexiness, but yours is just…wrong.”

“Heh, you’re just jealous,” Marik’s alternate said gleefully. “You can’t handle that we’re a hotter couple than you.”

“ _Hotter_?” Marik asked, outraged.

“Couple?” Bakura asked. “We don’t actually describe ourselves as that, do we? It makes it sound like it’s all date nights and obnoxious pet names. Gods, you don’t go to farmers’ markets together, do you?”

“He said we were a couple,” the other Bakura answered snippily, “not hipsters.”

“It’s more like villains with benefits anyway,” the alternate Marik added. “All the evilness and sexiness, and sometimes the occasional brunch.”

“And speaking of benefits…” the other Bakura said, snaking an arm about his Marik’s waist, his hand slipping down to hold his bottom. “Things are a little time sensitive. We’re going to watch a lightning storm later, so—”

His Marik’s face lit up. “Hey, do you two want to come watch the—”

“Or, if they left we could have some ‘alone time’ before we go see the storm,” the other Bakura interrupted.

“Why do we need alone time?”

“For the _benefits_.”

“Ohhhhhhhh.” The penny had finally dropped for the alternate Marik. “But we have _benefits_ all the time; we don’t meet our other selves every day.”

“All the time?” Bakura asked, swallowing. “Could you quantify that?”

“Come on, Bakura,” Original Marik chimed in, beginning to drag him out of the bedroom door and into the hallway. “We have other worlds to see and they clearly don’t want us here. We’ll just let ourselves out.”

“So, this isn’t just domestic fluff, you two are actually sleeping together? Often? How?”

“It usually helps if you aren’t being interrupted by doppelgängers,” the other Bakura replied with a grin, closing the bedroom door firmly behind them.

“Come on, Fluffy,” Marik said, pulling the Cube out and flicking through the various little scenes to find something he wanted. “I’m picking the next world this time.”

“Wait a minute—” There were so many questions he hadn’t had a chance to ask. How did the other Bakura get Marik’s interest like that? Was there some trick to seducing him? A particularly effective pick-up line? A gesture? A massive bag of Marik-nip? What?

“And you’re going first this time.”

Before he could put up more of a protest, Bakura was pushed head first into the portal, and the tomb disappeared from view once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by [ImGettingTooOldForThisShip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImGettingTooOldForThisShip/pseuds/ImGettingTooOldForThisShip) with Marik and Bakura visiting her fic [Second Chances](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6064903)
> 
> So, this was the last guest chapter! The rest of the fic (with the exception of one scene in the next chapter) will be written by Chaos, Steffy and Sitabethel. 
> 
> Thanks again to the people who wrote guest chapters, everyone should go check out their work!
> 
>  
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Random keyboard mashing because words could never adequately convey your feels
> 

> 
> This author sees and appreciates all comments and tries to reply to all of them.
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter up to the linebreak written by [Sitabethel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/pseuds/sitabethel)
> 
> Scene after the linebreak written by [Taemanaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taemanaku/pseuds/Taemanaku)

After a moment of feeling like the bubbles in a shaken up can of cola, Bakura hit the floor with a loud _thwack_. The air punched out of his lungs and he struggled a moment for a breath. He hadn’t quite managed to catch one yet before he was punched in the gut again, this time by Marik’s body.

“Ooooow,” Marik groaned. “You’re too bony, Bakura. I thought landing on you would be more like a trampoline.”

Bakura didn’t have enough air in his lungs for his much needed sarcastic reply, and he had been a lot more bony a dimension ago at the thought of alternate versions of himself and Marik having _benefits_ with each other...

A breathless whine echoed from the door beside them.

“Uh, Bakura? Did I hurt you?” Marik asked, sounding unsure as he poked Bakura's chest.

“That’s not me...well, not exactly,” Bakura answered.

Another sultry whine made them both turn toward the door, and Bakura attempted to get out from under Marik and go investigate.

“Bakura.” Marik frowned. “What did I tell you five minutes ago? We can't watch ourselves like creepy perverts.”

“Look, _you_ can do whatever you want, but I'll be damned if I travel through multiple dimensions without getting to see how this works at least once.”

“How what works?”

“ _Us_ ,” Bakura hissed out the word.

Marik rolled his eyes and then rolled off of Bakura. “Seriously, get a hobby or something, Bakura. I'm not gay.”

More noises, shuffling, hushed speaking through a closed door, and another sound of lust.

Bakura sighed. “You are in this universe.”

“What am I supposed to do? I'll get bored standing here.”

Bakura nudged the Cube at him. “Pick the next universe.”

With that settled, Bakura pressed his eye near the keyhole of the door, mouth dropping at what he saw. A very-much-gay Marik stood with two fingers knuckle-deep in Bakura's counterpart’s asshole. He was finger fucking him at a furious pace while using his free hand to give the other Bakura's shaft slow, teasing caresses.

It was like watching one of his own fantasies in 1080p and dolby surround sound.

“You know,” his own Marik said while pacing behind him, “ _that_ Marik is technically the one in the closet.”

“Uh-huh.” Bakura hardly acknowledged his Marik, too lost in watching the other one reduce his alternate self to a sweating, gasping heap before they even managed to get started with the actual sex.

Marik snorted at the fact that Bakura was ignoring him. He stuck his nose in the air and started giving Bakura a lecture.

“This is a waste of time. Sure we're out of the Shadow Realm, but we still don't know what happened to our show, or if our spin-offs are okay. Our reality might not even exist anymore, and instead of using this Fanfic Device™ to help discover the truth, you're basically watching porn. How dare you—?”

At that moment the other Marik slammed himself into Bakura's ass. The other Bakura cried out in raptured bliss, and the sound twisted hallway-Bakura's stomach with both excitement and longing.

He felt his Marik trying to push him away from the door.

“If you're going to waste our time, at least scoot over so I can see, too.”

“Shhh, this isn't an Abridged universe, alright? I seriously doubt our more-canon selves mind giving a show, but they might have a hard time accepting visitors from another dimension.”

“Then move over.” Marik continued to shove, but his voice was a whisper.

Bakura smirked. “I'm afraid I can't do that, Marik. You see, you're not gay, but this lemon is very, _very_ gay. I wouldn't want to offend you with all the gayness. Better leave the voyeurism to me. I'm a professional gay.”

More moans, accompanied by the _knock knock knock_ of the desk smacking against the wall of the utility closet.

Marik bit his lower lip for a moment before shoving Bakura over again.

“Look, I can't help it if these stupid fangirls are delusional and keep writing me as gay even if it's out of character. The least I can do is check and make sure the quality is up to the highest standards.”

“Oh believe me.” Bakura continued to resist Marik's shoving. “The quality is superb, completely befitting of your high standard of sexiness.”

“Only _I_ can be the judge of that.”

Marik smacked their heads together, forcing Bakura to give up half his view. They crouched in front of the door with their cheeks pressed side by side and sharing breaths. Normally they would never stay that close together, but the keyhole wasn’t big enough for both of them to see through it otherwise.

Marik managed to join the show just as his other self pulled the hair tie away from the other Bakura's hair. A cascade of white toppled down as the other Bakura continued to moan like he was either dying or being reborn. Even “Florence” Bakura had to admit that the sight of himself was sexy to watch.

Bakura couldn't resist turning and whispering against the shell of Marik's ear.

“See? Superb.”

“Shhh,” Marik snapped, focused on the scene through the keyhole.

Bakura repressed a chuckle and went back to watching the scene. Their counterparts were in no hurry to finish, and it took a while before the other Bakura grabbed himself. Then the other Marik took over, and Bakura could tell that the other Marik enjoyed watching the effect of his ministrations as much as Bakura himself did. So much so that the sight and sound of the other Bakura right before orgasm pushed the other Marik over the edge.

The hallway version of Bakura wanted to join them. It wouldn't have taken much. Only a little pressure, a little friction, the sight of their alternate selves still tangled together despite being finished. That's all it would take for years of pent up frustration to finally burst into something beautiful and fulfilling.

And Marik could deny his true self for the rest of his life, but Bakura could feel Marik’s cheek burning and the quickness of Marik's breath. Bakura was so distracted with Marik's reaction that he didn't realize their other selves were dressed and ready to go until his own Marik grabbed him and shoved him against the wall.

Bakura's eyes bulged. He was stone hard and hyper sensitive to Marik's presence as Marik pressed against him. Bakura gasped and Marik shushed him even as the door opened. They stood sandwiched between the opened door and the wall. Only the fear of being discovered kept Bakura quiet when he wanted to moan just as his other self had moaned moments before.

The door swung away from them and anyone could see them even if they only half looked. Luckily for them, their other selves were so distracted by each other and talks of a long, hot shower that they didn't even bother giving the hallway they were in half a glance.

Bakura and Marik continued to stay still as their counterparts’ voices grew faint. Bakura held his breath. Just one buck, just one hitch of his hips and Bakura would scream as richly and deeply as his other self had a moment ago. Marik had fit between his other self’s thighs like perfection, like destiny, and it wasn't fair that they were shoved this close together but still had clothes on.

“That was a close one,” Marik murmured, still molded against Bakura's body despite the fact that their doppelgängers were gone.

Bakura closed his eyes and waited to see if Marik would do anything. They were both granite hard against each other, but of course Marik did nothing but stare at Bakura with an unreadable expression on his face. Bakura gave up, knowing it was hopeless.

He didn't rock forward, although every instinct in his body demanded that he add movement to the pressure on his groin. Instead, he lidded his eyes, leaned closer to Marik, and whispered, “This is the part where you ruin the mood by screaming some stupid one-liner and cartwheeling away like a buffoon.”

“You're the buffoon!” Marik shouted. “And my one-liners are never stupid!”

“My mistake. You'll have to forgive me. I'm a little distracted after the show.” Marik was still against him, so Bakura had the confidence to ask, “So? What did you think?”

Marik shrugged, and Bakura's breath hitched at even that subtle of a movement.

“I guess a 6 of 10. The scene definitely captured my sexiness, but it was _way_ too OOC. I mean, you weren't even annoying that entire time.”

Bakura snorted. “Try stroking me like he did and I'm sure you'll find me just as agreeable as my counterpart.”

“I shouldn't have to bribe you to behave, Bakura.”

“Um, so …?” Bakura swallowed. Their position was starting to get painful, and Bakura was forcing himself not to beg. “Did you pick another universe yet?”

Marik grinned and finally shoved away as if nothing had happened. “You're right, Bakura. No use daydreaming about foxy boxes and how good I am in bed! We still have more universes to explore, and it's my turn to choose.”

Marik skipped down the hall a few beats before stopping and fiddling with the device.

“Let’s see…no, no, no…”

“What are you looking for?” Bakura asked, trying to calm himself down.

“Well, we made it out of the Shadows. We'd better see what happens when we try to go to our own universe.”

Bakura walked up behind Marik until he was looking over Marik’s shoulder as he flicked through various dimensions. Bakura's eyes closed as he got lost in the scent of Marik's hair. He was so lost in the moment—the smell of his shampoo, the warmth of Marik's body, how easy it'd be to press his lips against Marik's neck—that he didn't notice what was going on with the Cube until Marik clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Well, we're screwed.”

“Screwed?” Bakura asked, mind still in the gutter, but then he noticed the screen in front of them.

He couldn’t help the slight sinking feeling in his gut when he saw a blue screen with giant white letters reading YGOTAS CANCELLED in a boring, sans serif font.

“Yup, that’s what I was afraid of.” Marik’s brow furrowed.

Bakura would have thought the expression attractive under other circumstances, but as it was, he only mimicked the concern on his own face.

“What about the Let’s Plays?”

Marik flicked over one screen, but an ERROR message showed up on both the Evil Council and Let’s Play options.

“Dammit,” Marik growled. In frustration, he gave the touch screen a weak swipe, and then he perked up. “What’s this?”

A scene slid into view showing the Big Five arguing with Yugi and the others. They listened for a few minutes as the group of geezers gloated about cancelling their show.

Marik grimaced. “Gods, this is worse than the fanfics we’ve been visiting. Who the hell even are these guys?”

“They were side-arc villains from season one, before you showed up. Unless you follow the manga, in which case they were—”

“Don’t care! Moving on.” Marik fast forwarded and the scene changed to Tristan, Duke, and Serenity over a lava pit, dueling what looked like a princely robot. “What the frig! No fair! How come _they_ get to duel Optimus Prime? They’re not even main characters! And why weren’t we included in this side arc?”

“Because we’re supposed to be trapped in the Shadow Realm, remember?”

“Clearly the writers underestimated us if they thought we were going to just sit around in the dark and do nothing.”

“I can think of _plenty_ of things we could have done in the dark…and positions in which to do them.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, how can anyone see how sexy I am if we’re in the dark?”

“Hmm, good point.” Bakura stepped forward, a mischievous look on his face. “I’ll make sure to leave the light on so I can see just how sexy you are.”

Normally Bakura would never be so overt, but the sight of their alternate selves in the utility closet was still replaying over and over in Bakura’s mind, and he was having trouble remembering _why_ he never flirted. It wasn’t as if Marik would notice, or pay attention, or even acknowledge the act if he did happen to catch on to what Bakura was doing. At the very least Bakura could enjoy his own thoughts—Marik spread on his bed, sweat gleaming in the glow of the overhead light. Yes, very sexy indeed, and Bakura wished he could see it in life instead of his imagination.

“I, uh…” Marik stuttered for a moment.

If it had been anyone else, Bakura would have sworn he was flustered, but this was Marik, an ignorer of even the most obvious cues and signals, so Bakura knew better than to get his hopes up. Still...

“What’s the matter? Distracted?” Bakura flashed a wicked grin in Marik’s direction, letting his hair fall into his eyes as he asked the question.

“Evil villains of my caliber never get distracted!” Marik shouted, turning back to the screen. “I’m very busy, er, studying these card games, so I'll know Yugi’s moves when I duel him.”

“ _If_ you duel him. Our show is cancelled, after all.”

“Well, Yugi’s the protagonist. Let _him_ figure out how to get the show back on the air. Had he been doing his damn job to begin with and stopped Melvin, none of us would even _be_ in this situation.”

“Should we help them?” Bakura asked. “Knowing those morons, they could get stuck in filler forever and then our show will never get back on the air.”

“Eh.” Marik shrugged. “They’re main characters, let them work out the technicalities. Our job is to stand here, be evil, and look sexy. Besides, I’m still technically controlling Tea Gardner, so if they eff it up too badly I can always use her to fix things without having to get my nails dirty.” Marik glanced at his nails. “I _just_ got them manicured a few days ago.”

“That’s not how you say her name, you know.”

“Of course that’s how you pronounce her name. It’s obviously Tea.”

“It’s Téa.”

“I don’t care how it’s pronounced in British, Bakura.”

Bakura rolled his eyes and gave up. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched Yugi’s card game that Marik was pretending to ‘research’ for future duels. Really, Bakura suspected that Marik simply felt like watching TV, and since they couldn’t get back to their flat, he was settling for anything on a screen.

“Hey!” Marik yelled suddenly. “Who the hell is this guy?!”

Bakura glanced at the image of Yugi and Téa on the screen and then at Marik, confused.

“Umm…Marik, that's Yugi.”

Marik huffed and settled a hand on his hip. “I'm not dumb, Bakura. I know who Yugi is. I meant the weird penguin guy possessing Tea.”

Bakura gave up on correcting the name this time, too preoccupied with trying to figure out what Marik was talking about.

“Hold on a sec, Bakura,” Marik said, pulling out his Millennium Rod. “I have to take care of this.”

“Wait, take care of what?”

“Oh, for the love of frig! Will you quit it already?” Marik snapped at the image of Téa.

Bakura blinked at him. “Uhh, Marik--?”

“ _Wait, who said that_?”

“It's me! Marik Ishtar!”

The Rod began to glow in Marik's hand, and suddenly Bakura saw him projecting a reflection of himself in Téa's eye, the other revealing Crump, who Bakura presumed was the ‘weird penguin guy’ Marik had just mentioned. Bakura simply watched, not sure entirely what was going on.

“And for the record,” Marik continued, “I was possessing this girl way before it was cool!”

“ _How the hell did you get in here?”_

“It's a long story that involves the name Steve. I must admit, I'm not really used to being inside women. Don't think I like it very much. How did you get in here?”

Bakura guffawed, but Marik was too absorbed in his interdimensional, mental teleconference to notice. By the time Bakura had collected himself, Marik had closed the connection with the Rod and was giving him an odd look.

“What the hell is so funny?”

“Nothing.” Bakura nodded at the Rod Marik still held. “You can still control your mind slaves from here?”

“Apparently, but the connection is shoddy.” Marik stashed the Rod away once more.

They both glanced up at the screen as it moved on to another duel, and Bakura sighed.

“These card games are even more tedious when you’re just watching them. On the plus side, I don’t need a cold shower any more,” Bakura muttered.

“I never will understand why you prefer your showers cold.”

“You wouldn’t.” He gestured to the scene as it changed once more. Everyone appeared to be present now, watching as Kaiba faced off against his Season Zero twin. “Now where the fuck are they? More bloody lava? What, do the people at 4kids have a volcano fetish or something?”

“You shouldn’t kinkshame.”

“I’m not kinkshaming.”

“It’s none of your business who likes lava and who like ice cubes.”

“Who said anything about ice cubes?” Bakura smacked his forehead against the palm of his hand. “Whatever, if we’re going to be dimensional voyeurs instead of actually helping get the show back, can we please watch anything else? I’m going to die of secondhand embarrassment if I have to watch these losers for much longer. They’re so incompetent that it physically hurts me.”

“Fine, I suppose.” Marik sighed and started scrolling through seemingly endless realities. “Hey, this one looks kind of cool.”

“Is this ancient Egypt?” Bakura asked.

“I think so. Oooh, look Bakura, we’re both thieves in this one. I bet this is like an action adventure fic. Let’s go here.”

Bakura sighed. He would have rather broken into the utility closet and re-enacted the events of the _current_ fic they were in, but that wasn’t going to happen, so he shrugged.

“Sure, why not. Might be fun to see my old self act dashing and adventurous.”

“Bet you’re not half as dashing as me!” Marik rested a hand on his chest. “I am _the_ most dashing—and adventurous!”

Bakura snorted. “Sure, Marik. Let’s go already.”

 

* * *

 

Marik and Bakura jumped through the portal, and again were ported into an alternate universe. This time they landed inside what looked like a prison, which was dusty and smelled like horse droppings.

They heard voices which sounded uncannily like their own. There, behind the bars, were Marik and what looked like Thief King Bakura, both wearing very little, and arguing very much.

“Well, this looks like an interesting one,” muttered the present day Bakura. Fortunately, they were on the other side of the prison bars. “This looks like a great representation of our relationship, don’t you think? Arguing and name-calling? The only thing missing here is your purple belly shirt.”

The present day Marik refrained from comment. It sounded like their alternate selves were arguing about how to get out of the prison, and ancient Marik had just suggested that they should dig their way out, and let the flooding Nile smash through the weakened wall.

The present-day Marik was pleased. “Look at that, Bakura! Even my ancient Egyptian doppelgänger is cleverer than you. Let’s see if my plan actually works.”

But what happened next had nothing to do with the flooding Nile. Bakura's eyes went round as he realized they were about to be treated to the sight of some very wild sex.

The present day Bakura turned to his Marik with a flushed look on his face. “I take it back. This is nothing like our relationship.” He noticed that Marik also had a rosy look on his dark cheeks.

Unfortunately for Bakura, his Marik then started shoving him away from the cell and saying, “Geez, what is with all these universes?”

“I want to see!” hissed Bakura.

“I told you, it's rude to spy!”

They scuffled, and sadly for Bakura, by the time he managed to break free and get back to the barred window where he could peek in on their ancient selves, it seemed the wild sex was already over. Bakura sighed, telling himself it was for the best—seeing themselves like that again, together in the way he'd always wanted, would just be torturing himself further.

Ancient Marik was now sharing a sentimental backstory, which, again, had nothing at all to do with the Nile flooding. After that, ancient Marik fell asleep, and ancient Bakura tried to break out of prison, but didn’t get very far as the guard caught him. Marik then woke up the next day alone, and despite being saddened by Bakura’s betrayal, still managed to kill the guard and save Bakura’s ass.

“Geez, Bakura, I had no idea you were such a lousy lover,” the present day Marik commented as they observed the scene. “Leaving me—I mean, leaving this other Marik Ishtar—to die after such apparently great and passionate sex. What kind of person does that?”

“What kind of person shares all that information after great sex? Clearly this Bakura thought you had too much baggage.”

“I disagree. I loved my backstory,” Marik said. “Intelligent scribe turned thief by the death of his mother, who was killed by her god-awful husband because she carried someone else’s baby. The only thing that would have made this better is if I had actually murdered my father, instead of that lousy guard.”

Bakura raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you’re taking this universe a little too literally? This wasn’t your backstory. This was another Marik’s. One in a different dimension.”

“Speaking of another dimension, it looks like the Nile is actually flooding here, so we should probably get out before we get flooded, too.”

“Fair point. And for the record, I’m not a lousy lover.”

Marik just smirked. Bakura ignored him and grabbed the Cube. “Since you made me miss the one thing I wanted to see, I'm choosing the next universe.”

Before Marik could object, he scrolled through the universes, and he quickly found one that was to his liking. The Cube showed a scene in a forest where Marik had Bakura pressed up against a tree and Marik was, as his Marik would say, _eff_ ing him from behind. Bakura's eyes went round at the sight. But just as Bakura reached out to select the scene, Marik slapped his hand away.

“This jail cell is filthy, and you want to leave here just go to the dirty woods, with the bugs and the snakes? I don't think so. Let's find something a bit more civilized.”

Before Bakura could react, Marik had scrolled away from the tantalizing scene, and soon he found a different scene which showed a modern apartment.

“Much better,” Marik said, jabbing his finger at the new scene. Bakura sighed in defeat as he allowed Marik to shove him into the portal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First part of the chapter written by [Sitabethel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/pseuds/sitabethel) with Marik and Bakura visiting her fic [Six Days as Boyfriends](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5057926)
> 
> Second part of the chapter written by [Taemanaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taemanaku/pseuds/Taemanaku) with Marik and Bakura visiting her fic [Venom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088674/chapters/27399732)
> 
> Fic referenced in this chapter: [Afternoon](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7824307/1/Afternoon) by [Mercury Moon](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/3004089/aaaaaaarchived)
> 
> Thanks to Tae for writing a scene for this chapter! Everyone should go check out her work! And thanks again to everyone who helped out with this fic by writing guest chapters. The rest of the fic is all Chaos, Steffy and Sitabethel.
> 
>  
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Random keyboard mashing because words could never adequately convey your feels
> 

> 
> This author sees and appreciates all comments and tries to reply to all of them.
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by ChaosRocket

Bakura slammed down onto the wooden slats. Marik was close behind him, appearing out of the ether above him, falling in such a way that he landed right on top of him—of course, of course he would. As if Bakura hadn't been tortured enough already.

Bakura grunted and shoved his partner off of him. He couldn't take another second of Marik's proximity, or he would explode.

Marik made a sound of indignation, but Bakura ignored him.

Then Marik was silent for a blissful moment as he collected himself, and Bakura took the opportunity to look at his surroundings. He realized they were on a balcony. There were sliding glass doors in front of them, presumably leading to a room in an apartment, judging by the look of the building they had landed outside.

Bakura couldn't resist looking, even though he knew he should stop himself. He was fully aware that he shouldn't look inside the domicile and torment himself further, but still he peered through the window.

It was no surprise to him by now to see himself and Marik on a bed together. His eyes widened as he watched the two. They were both without their clothes, and his other self was running his fingers over the other Marik's bare back. And while he couldn't hear anything through the glass, the other Marik's parted lips and closed eyes and content expression let him know that the Marik he was observing must have been sighing in satisfaction.

He knew about _his_ Marik's back—it was no different than the back of the Marik he was looking at now, decorated with intricate symbols carved into flesh, permanently. Marik had talked about it once, while he was playing some dumb game and recording it for an episode of his ridiculous Let's Play series. It had been a hot knife slicing into his flesh—that was what had made the wounds. Marik had made a joke about the blood and the screaming. Then he'd suddenly taken on a serious tone and said it was the worst day of his life...before laughing it off and saying how badass it was.

As he watched the other two, Bakura's fingers itched to touch his own Marik's scars, and he balled his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms and closing his eyes.

His counterpart had his eyes closed as well, he saw when he opened his own to look again. His fingers were tracing his companion’s scars almost delicately, and then he seemed to be whispering something, and the other Marik sucked in a breath and shivered at the words as Bakura's other self lowered his face to press his lips against the wings that crossed Marik's shoulders.

Bakura suddenly realized that their doubles in this reality weren't just banging—well, they _were_ , he assumed, considering they were both naked and lying in bed together—but they weren't _just_ screwing.

They were in love.

For some reason that thought made his face feel hot and his body feel twitchy, and he jerked away from the scene, backing away from the window quickly until his back hit the railing of the deck.

“What is it, Kitty?” Marik asked, having gotten up and brushed himself off by now.

“N-nothing you need to see!” Bakura said quickly, and he tried to pull Marik away from the door.

But he should have known that would only make Marik more curious, and that Marik's defiant nature would egg him on to do exactly the opposite of whatever Bakura was trying to get him to do—or not to do, in this case.

Marik struggled out of his grip and went to the door, smashing his face right against the glass in a ridiculous way.

“Hey, I—” Bakura started. “Bloody hell, I thought you didn't want us to just watch porn. Isn't this too gay for you?”

But Marik ignored him, and pulled back from the glass a little to use his hands to frame his view, his head resting between his palms.

Bakura sighed, but gave up trying to deter him, telling himself Marik was far too oblivious to have any idea what he was seeing.

He thought he heard a sharp intake of air, but maybe it was just his imagination, or maybe he was somehow hearing the other Marik that was inside the apartment...

His Marik turned to him, a question in his eyes. “Why...didn't you want me to see this?”

“Doesn't matter!” Bakura said quickly. He pulled out the Cube. “I'm sure we can find a better universe—you were right, we can't just waste all our time watching ourselves. I don't know what I was thinking—”

Before Marik could object further Bakura was scrolling through the other realities the Cube offered, and when it seemed Marik was about to turn back to the window he jabbed his finger onto the surface at random, not knowing or caring what sort of reality he'd just chosen.

Again there was light, and a jerking sensation, and the next thing he knew they'd been dumped back in what appeared to be ancient Egypt, judging by the expanse of sand they'd landed on. And thank the gods that for once Marik had landed a few feet away instead of on top of him.

“Hey, I was—” Marik started, but then he broke off, and looked around. “Egypt again?”

Bakura snorted. “I'm impressed you figured that out.”

Bakura actually let himself breathe for a moment, but he should have known he wouldn't get much respite—in the next instant he saw an ancient, yet exceptionally young version of himself walking toward them, along with a kid who looked suspiciously like Marik. They were arguing about something or other, Bakura could tell from their body language and expressions, and as they got closer he could hear them saying something about a market, and getting caught stealing.

Bakura didn't wait around for them to make up, as he was sure by now they would, considering how things in every universe they'd been thrust into before had gone. The young ages of their doppelgängers in this reality didn't comfort him, but rather made him more wary that the coming scene would be exactly the type of innocent and nonsexual thing he didn't want to see with a beautiful and wide-eyed Marik beside him, not understanding...

Bakura began marching off in a random direction, hoping Marik would just follow him—or not, it didn't really matter.

He kept walking, and the words _Where have you been, partner?_ floated across the desert, and then that was the last he heard out of their alternate selves, now having covered enough distance that the other two were well behind them and out of hearing range.

He could hear his Marik panting to catch up behind him. “Fluffy. Fluffy. Fluffy!”

Now far enough away from their other selves, Bakura finally stopped and turned around. “What.”

Marik gave him a blank look. “I forgot.”

Bakura rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

Bakura finally allowed himself to plop down onto the sand, and got out the Cube again and began scrolling through universes.

“What are you—?” Marik started, but then he broke off and sat down next to him.

Bakura scowled at him. “I hate to admit it, but I should have listened to you before. This thing isn't a television set. We shouldn't be just sitting around watching stories like an old woman. If our universe is gone, we need to figure out what to do next, where to go.”

“If you'd realized my brilliance sooner, we would have saved a lot of time.”

Bakura sighed, not feeling like arguing. “Quite.”

A smile quirked Marik's lips, but then he shot an uncharacteristically bitter look at Bakura and said, “Well, I suppose we'll have to try to avoid any universe where...what was it that made you all salty, again?”

“Nothing,” Bakura said.

“Well, something did.”

Bakura didn't bother responding.

“I see how it is,” Marik said. He crossed his arms, looking up to the sky dramatically. “Of course, it makes sense. I know my body is too sexy for human consumption.”

Bakura stared at him. “ _What_?”

“Obviously,” Marik went on, “no mortal—or immortal, I suppose, in your case—could help wanting me, with my perfect abs, and amazing bottom.”

Bakura blinked. “I have no idea what the bloody hell you're on about.”

“I've told you a million times I'm not gay.”

Bakura's expression settled into one of weary resignation. “I know.”

Marik held up a finger, waving it in Bakura's face. “I'm not a slatternly creature, Bakura, like one of your children's trading cards.”

“I...what?”

Marik suddenly snatched the Cube from him, and began flipping through universes. “Since we've agreed I'm the smarter of the two of us, I believe I, the great Marik Sebastian Ishtar the Third, ought to solve this problem.”

Bakura was dazed. “Slatternly?” he said belatedly.

Marik flipped through various scenes on the device, briefly pausing on one where Bakura—or rather, a version of him that looked like his ancient self—lay in Marik's arms, Marik's fingers grazing over his back and then his neck as he shuddered and sighed. As the Marik in the image got up to remove his gloves and boots, the image suddenly disappeared as Marik flicked past it. “Not that one! You don't like that kind of thing.”

Bakura felt uneasy in the pit of his stomach. “Marik...what are you…?”

Marik gave him a pitying look, and Bakura thought he wouldn't respond, but then he spoke.

“Gold, Bakura,” Marik said, indicating his shining arm band, and Bakura felt more confused than ever.

He was trying to act normal, but all he could do was stare at Marik with a lost kind of look. “I don't…”

Marik then pointed at the golden collar around his throat, which was catching the light of the Egyptian sun, making him look more regal than usual. “I like the finer things in life...because I'm worth it,” Marik said. “I'm not some cheap hussy.”

Bakura pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Marik, I have no bloody clue what you're trying to say, and if you don't tell me right now I'm going to...to…” He couldn't think of an adequate threat, so finally he blurted out what he was actually thinking. “Run off into this desert until I collapse from exhaustion and die because I can't take one more second of your utter idiocy!”

He thought he saw hurt flash across Marik's face for a second, but then it was gone. “You _do_ think I'm an idiot. That's what I'm talking about.”

When Bakura only gave him a confused stare, Marik turned back to the Cube, positioning his finger to jab at a new scene. “I understand, it's fine. It's natural to be attracted to my body, it _is_ the sexiest in the universe—well, multiverse—after all. If it grosses you out to see us doing other things, _emotional_ things, we can go somewhere you don't have to see that.”

Bakura's eyes widened as it suddenly all clicked in his head, and he understood what Marik had been trying to say—or at least, prayed to the uncaring gods he understood, and hadn't misinterpreted.

“Marik.” His mouth was dry. “Marik, no, I don't only want—” Marik turned to look at him, and their eyes locked. “I mean, I _do_ want—” But he couldn't finish, so he showed him what he meant instead.

Bakura reached out and suddenly pulled Marik to him, and Marik gasped as Bakura's hands locked around his middle, and then slowly, slowly so as not to startle him, crept up along his back, reaching underneath his shirt until Bakura's fingers were gracing his scars.

He could see Marik was holding his breath, and he leaned in.

Marik leaned in as well, and as their lips hovered only millimeters apart from each other, Bakura thought he'd pass out from the sheer anticipation. Suddenly Marik pulled back, his eyebrows quirking as he gave Bakura a petulant look, and Bakura almost screamed.

“I told you, I have standards. I'm not doing it outside, in the dirt.”

“It's sand!” Bakura exclaimed.

“Same difference.”

“Ugh.” Bakura was relieved that this was Marik's only problem, but couldn't help his feeling of continued irritation. He snatched the Cube from Marik and began slashing his finger downwards, searching until he found a universe that seemed to take place in the modern day, so they could be indoors as the princess required.

Moments and a flash of light later, they'd landed on a bed, in an empty bedroom, and Bakura decided that it was fate, definitely fate, and they'd have time to do what they needed to—what _he_ needed to—before their counterparts in this universe showed up. And if he was wrong—what was the worst that could happen?

So Bakura leaned in again, and for a moment it seemed Marik was mirroring his action, but then Marik jerked back again, and this time Bakura did scream.

“What the bloody hell is your problem _now_?”

“I told you, I'm not some hussy. I'm not just going to jump into bed with you because you snapped your fingers.”

“You already have jumped into bed with me,” Bakura pointed out, eyeing the bedspread they were both lying on.

“Well, who's the stupid one now?” Marik asked, giving Bakura a weary, almost condescending look. “What, you don't understand colloquial terms in speech?”

“Did you just say—?” Bakura started, but Marik cut him off.

“At any rate, you need to put in a bit more effort. I need... _romance_. Seduction! To be treated like the royalty I am. And if you think _yelling_ at me is the right method, then you've got another thing coming, mister!” Marik preened as he finished his speech.

Bakura had recoiled a bit, as Marik had been wagging his finger in his face as he spoke. But he gritted his teeth and said, “You're right, I'm sorry. You deserve better. Just...let me think for a minute.” He didn't really want to play along with Marik's silly game, but at that moment he would have done _anything_ to end the ridiculous dance around their feelings they'd been doing for years now, to finally _have_ Marik...and besides, if he really let himself think about it, Marik was right, he _should_ be a little nicer if they were finally going to—

But his brain didn't want to accept the idea of Marik being right about anything, so he turned away from that thought and began thinking of what he could do to satisfy Marik's requirements.

Bakura considered things for several minutes, and then it came to him. He thought that if he were an American cartoon instead of an anime character, a lightbulb would have appeared over his head. He lept up and rushed from the room, hoping this abode would have what he required.

He was back in a flash, something obviously hidden behind his back. “Close your eyes.” Bakura grinned.

But instead of closing his eyes, Marik only narrowed them. “Why?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.” To Bakura's surprise, Marik did close his eyes then, and lay back against the covers.

Bakura climbed onto the bed next to him. He didn't think the idea he'd come up with exactly counted as romance, but maybe it at least qualified as seduction...anyway, he hoped it would work.

He laid the object he'd gotten from the kitchen on the bedside table next to them, pulling one of the items from it, and with it clutched tight in his hand, he suddenly shoved his closed fist up the front of Marik's shirt.

Bakura opened his hand, and Marik's eyes popped wide open as he gasped at the shock of cold against his nipple. Bakura began circling the ice cube, and when Marik gasped again and arched up, Bakura knew he'd made the right decision. When he felt Marik's flesh harden against his fingertips, he moved to the other side of his partner's chest and began rubbing the chilled cube against Marik's other nipple.

“Take off your shirt,” Bakura said in a low voice.

Marik complied immediately, and Bakura thought that his ministrations must have been enough to make Marik forget about gold jewelry, or flowers, or whatever the hell he'd meant when he'd insisted on romance.

Bakura continued circling the ice cube around Marik's left nipple as he lowered his head to suck and lick at the other, and he couldn't help smiling as a moan escaped Marik. After a while, he switched to nipping at the other side of Marik's chest as he moved the ice cube back to his right nipple, rubbing it there until it was nearly melted.

He sat up to throw the small shard of ice onto the floor, and looked down at Marik's dazed face, blond hair falling into his violet eyes, and something seized his heart for a moment.

“Flip over,” he said, almost choking on his words.

Marik did, too far gone to think about hesitating, and Bakura swallowed as he reached over to fish another ice cube out of the tray on the nightstand.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he was tracing Marik's scars with the frozen cube, his breath coming fast as Marik's seemed to stop altogether.

He let his fingers follow the ice, warming the cold skin with his touch, and he tried to tell himself his fingers certainly weren't shaking, not like the fingers of the other Bakura in that sappy fanfic scene they'd witnessed earlier. But he couldn't really help leaning down to kiss Marik's back, the way he'd seen the other Bakura do, the way the other Marik had seemed to like so much.

The second ice cube was almost gone by the time it swept over the last of the tortured design on Marik's back, and Bakura threw it aside too as his hands and lips finished trailing against the hieroglyphs.

Bakura was trembling as he sat back on his haunches and removed his own shirt, looking down at a Marik who was quieter than he'd ever seen him, no more annoying exclamations bursting from his mouth, instead silent and shivering from more than just the chill of the ice.

Marik rolled over and that's when Bakura dived down and finally, finally captured his lips, and to his relief Marik arched up and kissed back with enthusiasm this time.

Bakura couldn't help letting out an embarrassing little squeak of pleasure before he lost himself in the kiss, all the stress leaving his body as he stopped thinking about the Pharaoh and thousands of years of planning and whether he'd ever become a main character like he clearly deserved and all the stupid things 4Kids made him say and the difference between his anime self and his manga self and how he knew he was a parody version of himself but at least he was still more accurate to his original self in many ways than his dub version, like at least he wasn't Zorc, it had been pretty explicit in the manga that he wasn't—

And none of that mattered anymore because he was kissing Marik, he was finally wrapped up in Marik's arms, rolling around on a bed together with him, their lips locked together as Marik sighed into his mouth, and nothing could be better than this, even the fields couldn't offer anything this amazing.

They were both panting when they finally broke apart, and when Bakura stripped off his jeans and boxers he was glad when Marik responded by removing the remainder of his own clothing as well, because he didn't think there was enough blood going to his brain at the moment to think up any further seduction techniques.

Marik was already hard, and still blessedly silent, his eyes half lidded with want. Bakura took a moment to appreciate Marik's now-naked body, his eyes raking over Marik's tight abs and down to his stiff cock, perfectly shaped and even larger than Bakura had expected it to be. Bakura licked his lips in appreciation and then reached over to grab another ice cube from the tray and slid it down Marik's stomach until it reached his erection. Marik cried out as Bakura circled the slippery cube over the head of his cock, and Bakura couldn't help smirking in satisfaction.

Bakura slid the cube up and down Marik's pulsing erection, Marik twitching and thrusting upwards for several minutes until it finally melted away and Bakura threw it aside, and then Marik looked up at him, the normally vacant look in his eyes gone and replaced with desire.

“Bakura—Fluffy—I—”  
  
For a moment Bakura considered whether he really wanted to hear what Marik had to say, or if he wanted to just dip his head and take Marik's cock in his mouth and shut him up, but then he looked down at him with soft eyes.

“Yeah?”

Marik caught his breath. “I didn't know if you'd—well, I guess you did pretty well, as well as someone who isn't as sexy as me could do but—before you only ever made lame sex jokes and I didn't think you—I mean, you could have just told me earlier and we would have saved a lot of time—”

Bakura smiled. “You're right, Marik. I'm the idiot. I should have told you that I—”

But again he couldn't finish the thought, so then Bakura did drop his head and take Marik into his mouth, and Marik moaned out loud as Bakura sucked and licked and slurped at the rod he'd _really_ wanted all along. At one point he slid a new ice cube into his mouth while he sucked, and that drove Marik so crazy that he realized he should stop if he didn't want Marik to come yet.

So he pulled off and sat back, and began going through the drawer on the bedside table, searching for the object he knew must be there, considering they must be in the bedroom of a Marik from a yaoi fanfic, if all the other universes they'd visited so far were anything to go by.

He soon found the bottle of lubricant and squeezed some into his hand to spread over Marik's erection. Marik's eyes widened as he realized what Bakura was going to do, and then Bakura raised himself up, positioning himself before dropping down and impaling himself, wincing because Marik really _was_ big and Bakura had been too impatient to bother with preparation.

Bakura breathed in and out, taking a moment to adjust before sitting up and then dropping down again, drawing a gasp from Marik. He leaned forward, angling himself so that Marik's cock would hit just the right spot inside him as he began sliding up and down, trying to establish a rhythm.

Bakura felt Marik's cock give a throb inside him and thought that maybe he'd get off easy—pun intended, of course, he thought, as he realized he himself was obviously now in a yaoi fanfic and Ra was he glad of it—and that Marik would continue being as cooperative and quiet as he had for most of this encounter.

But instead Marik grabbed his hips to still him and said, “You what?”

“Huh?” Bakura asked, far too desperate to continue to have any idea what Marik was talking about.

Marik left one hand on Bakura's hip to hold him in place, and used the other to start stroking Bakura's erection. Bakura sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation, and for a moment thought he might actually faint, the feeling so good it was overwhelming. Bakura had been so caught up in Marik's form and his scent and his lips and the fact that this was actually happening, finally happening, that he hadn't even been fully aware of how much his own cock had been screaming for attention. But now Marik's palm was wrapped around him and it was beyond words. As Marik continued sliding his hand up and down, Bakura couldn't help letting out an entirely undignified yelp at the feeling of Marik's touch.

Marik kept holding him in place and stroking as he said, “You should have told me that you what?”

Bakura understood then, Marik's words somehow penetrating through the fog in his mind. He let out a frustrated whimper as he tried to move his hips, but Marik held him fast. Marik was still stroking him, but too slowly. Bakura tried to resist answering for a moment but he was losing his mind and he needed all of this so badly so he let himself go and finally yelled, “That I love you!”

Marik smiled up at him, sincere and happy, and let go of Bakura's hip to start stroking him with both hands, faster now.

Bakura closed his eyes as he started moving, sliding up and down with Marik inside him and around him and near him and touching him, and then he heard “I love you, too,” and he couldn't help sighing _oh gods_ as he suddenly realized how badly he'd needed to hear it.

It didn't last long enough. Marik was too turned on from all Bakura had done to him earlier, satisfying his ice cube fetish, and Bakura had waited years for this, for Marik to be hard and inside him and touching his skin and gazing up at him with an affectionate and lust-addled stare.

Bakura came first, but only by a few seconds. Marik followed soon after, and then they collapsed together. Bakura enjoyed the moment, the two tangled up together, their bodies intertwined, basking in post orgasmic bliss.

They began kissing again, less desperate now, their lips moving against each other slowly and gently. They sighed between kisses, and Bakura closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Marik's hands stroking his back and his arms and then carding through his hair. Bakura realized ruefully that he was nearly purring at the way Marik was petting him, and hoped Marik wouldn't make a comment about him being a kitty. Thankfully, Marik didn't; he only cuddled in closer and hummed as Bakura returned his soft touches. But still, Bakura knew it couldn't last long before—

“Bakooora!”

The way Marik whined his name was...cute. Bakura realized it didn't annoy him so much anymore (maybe it never had...maybe he'd just pretended it had.)

Bakura gave him a lazy smile. “Hmm?”

“We have to clean up! The other me will be back eventually and if I know me—and I think I do—he will not want his bed full of liquid from melted ice, and, uh, also liquid from our privates, and—”

“Alright, Marik,” Bakura said, cutting him off before he could say something more unappealing than _liquid from our privates_.

So Bakura went and found the laundry closet while Marik put the lube and ice cube tray back where they’d found it. Marik helped put a fresh set of sheets and a new bedspread on the very well used (in Bakura's opinion) bed, and then Marik suddenly grabbed Bakura by the wrist and dragged him into the closet.

“Why...are we in the closet, Marik? Didn't you just come out of the closet?”

“I have no time for your consistently awful double entendres, Bakura, we have to—”

“You...know what a double entendre is?” Bakura broke in.

“Is it not obvious by now that I was simply ignoring your awful puns until you treated me like the royalty that I am?”

Bakura sighed. “Of course.” Bakura was beginning to realize, with a sort of dawning horror, that maybe he, not Marik, really was the stupid one between the two of them.

“Now be quiet!” Marik admonished him. “I have a feeling I'm about to—”

Marik was suddenly silent, and maybe Marik really did know what he was talking about, because moments later they heard someone padding into the room.

Bakura couldn't help taking the opportunity of being in the dark alone with Marik to kiss him, and for a few minutes Marik kissed back. But soon they heard voices, and Marik pushed him away, intent on listening to the conversation between their other selves in the room beyond the door. Marik seemed to believe it was important...and maybe it was. Maybe Marik had always been right about more things than Bakura wanted to admit, and this was the beginning of the next chapter of their story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by ChaosRocket with Marik and Bakura visiting her fics Playing Card Games Is Just Like Making Love and We Should Be Partners
> 
> Fic referenced in this chapter: Imprints by Girahimu Sama
> 
>  
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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> Feedback
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	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by [SuperSteffy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supersteffy/pseuds/Supersteffy)

The conversation, it turned out, was nothing more than an exchange of greetings that immediately devolved into a make out and groping session.

“Gods, what am I wearing?” Marik muttered as he peered between the slats in the closet door. “That isn’t remotely sexy! How can the other you be seduced by that?”

“Because you look good in anything,” Bakura whispered into his ear, “and better in nothing at all.”

Marik turned and smirked at Bakura. The dim light from the apartment beyond the bedroom striped his face.

“Seriously?” Marik tugged one of Bakura’s batwings playfully. “We _just_ had sex and you’re already hitting on me again?”

Bakura chuckled and wrapped his arms around Marik’s waist. “Habit,” he replied with a slight shrug. Lifting his face to Marik’s, Bakura trailed light kisses along Marik’s jaw.

Marik sighed and leaned into the contact, his hands massaging Bakura’s hips. “If you don’t stop, this is going to end up with us having sex again.”

“I’m okay with that,” Bakura assured him, his hands dipping under Marik’s shirt to rub small circles into Marik’s unmarked lower back. “Think we could give our other selves a show for once?”

Marik groaned as the kisses continued behind his ear. Reluctantly, he pulled back. “Bakura, we need to focus. Get your mind out of the gutter and check how close the Goody-Goodies are to getting our show back! I’m not sure what this Fanfic Device™ uses as a power source—”

“At a guess, Shadow Magic—”

“—but I’d rather not risk the battery running out and leaving us stranded.”

“Why the bloody hell would it have a battery?”

“Stop arguing with me and do as I say, Fluffy. I thought you said you would be more agreeable if we had sex?”

Bakura chuckled as he fiddled with the Cube. “I said I would be more agreeable _during_ the sex—I never said anything about after.”

Multitudes of images passed by in a flurry that Bakura hardly glanced at. He hadn’t passed more than a handful of images before Marik perked up. He knocked Bakura’s hand away and pointed.

“Ooh! Look at this one! It’s all Halloweeny! And what am I eating?” He squinted, leaning in until his nose nearly bumped the scene.

“I believe it’s a candy apple.”

“Look! There’s even a corn maze! This world is boring. Let’s go here instead!”

Bakura caught Marik’s reaching hand before he could select anything. “You just said you wanted me to check on how close we are to getting our show back.”

Marik assumed his best pouting face. “But Bakoooraaaa! Now I want to go trick-or-treating!”

“Maybe later, when this is all over.” Bakura scrolled past a few more scenes, a scowl forming. “These are all new places. Where are the scenes we were looking at before?”

On cue, the images disappeared, refreshing with what appeared to be the Cube’s version of their recent search history. Bakura flicked through until he found the ones of Yugi and his cheerleaders. They all seemed to be together, although for some odd reason the Pharaoh and Joey appeared to be dueling Tristan.

“What the fuck is even going on in this side arc?” Marik wondered.

“I know as much as you do.” Bakura rewound the scene like Shadow-powered Tivo. “Uh, looks like Tristan’s possessed by the Big Five—all of them. Honestly, if they’re going to deviate from the manga, they could at _least_ have the bloody plot make sense!”

“I mean, parts of the original manga didn’t make much sense either.”

“Fair point.”

“On the bright side, it looks like they’re winning,” Marik pointed out.

“Naturally,” Bakura grumbled.

“Don’t be so grumpy, Fluffy. We need them to win this time, remember?”

Marik turned his attention back to the scene beyond the closet as things started to get loud. Their counterparts had apparently gotten to the lemon portion of their fic. Bakura let out a low chuckle, his hand threading through Marik’s soft, golden hair.

“Are you certain you don’t want to join them?” he purred. “They probably wouldn’t notice.”

Marik bit his lip and glanced out at their counterparts moving together. “That’s tempting, but we really shouldn’t keep getting distracted. Besides, who knows what would happen if we got carried away and they did catch us?”

Despite his disappointment, Bakura knew Marik made a valid point—something he was going to have to get used to, it seemed. Sighing, he let his hand drop. “You’re right. Probably not worth the risk.”

“Here, let me see that thing.” Marik took the Cube from Bakura and began scrolling. “I’ll see if there’s a different world we can go to until the show is back up—preferably a less distracting one where we keep our clothes on. Now, where did that corn maze go...”

Folding his arms, Bakura closed his eyes and rested his head against the closet door. He wasn’t certain how long they’d been out of the Shadow Realm—time was a tricky concept when you were constantly transitioning between realities—but he felt like he could use a nap.

Bakura jolted out of his doze several minutes later when he heard Marik shouting his name from outside the closet.

“Thank the gods,” Marik muttered, adjusting his pants slightly. “I was beginning to wonder if we’d ever finish.” He was still preoccupied by the Cube, although he seemed to have gotten distracted from his original goal, having regressed to applying random filters to the footage of the Pharaoh and his posse.

The bubble of conversation started up between their alternate selves, and Bakura half-listened to it through the closet door as he dozed.

 _“I can’t stay,”_ Bakura heard his voice say.

 _“Of course you can!”_ Marik’s counterpart argued. _“No one will find you here. It’s cheaper than getting a hotel room, and my siblings only stop by—”_

_“Marik. Battle City was just a means to an end; the true duel between myself and the Pharaoh has yet to be played. I’ve stacked the deck in my favor, but in either case...I’m not coming back. Even if I win, I’ll be moving on with my people.”_

Bakura’s eyes snapped open, his breath freezing in his chest. The rest of the conversation was lost on him as a ringing started in his ears.

Marik felt Bakura stiffen beside him and glanced up from the Cube, his brow creasing.

“Fluffy? You okay?”

Marik’s voice sounded far away, overshadowed by the words repeating in Bakura’s mind: _I’m not coming back._

“Bakura? What’s happening right now? Talk to me.”

A warm hand touched Bakura’s face, bringing him back to the moment. Bakura opened his mouth to answer, but the other him spoke first.

_“Marik, say something, damn it!”_

_“What do you want me to say? Don’t go? We both know nothing I say is going to stop you from leaving.”_

Bakura’s heart clenched painfully in his chest. “I have to,” he whispered.

Marik scrunched his face. “Have to what? What do you have to do? Bakura—”

Bakura didn’t want to think about it—had avoided thinking about it since their odd and wonderful partnership had begun—but they were already in season three. If— _when_ the protagonists managed to get their show reinstated, how long would he and Marik have together? All of season four and some of season five? It would go by all too quickly, and before he knew it, Bakura would have to play out his part. He would have to leave Marik behind and face off against the Pharaoh in their final Shadow Game, and he knew— _knew_ —how it would turn out...

A part of him hoped that the show never got renewed. Then he and Marik could stay like this indefinitely, hopping from one ridiculous universe to the next, trick-or-treating or pranking their counterparts, or whatever crazy plans Marik could concoct for them. They could be together…

They could hear Marik’s counterpart sobbing beyond the door. Bakura was shocked when Marik’s hand wiped at Bakura’s cheek, smearing tears he’d thought himself incapable of shedding.

“Fluffy?” Marik repeated, desperation creeping into his tone. “What’s wrong? Bakura, you’re scaring me.”

Bakura swallowed past the lump in his throat. His eyes fell shut, shedding more tears as his hand came up to squeeze Marik’s.

His voice was hardly a whisper. “This is the best thing that’s happened to me—I don’t want it to end.”

Bakura felt Marik sigh against his face, relieved that Bakura was once again responsive. “Yeah, this has been fun. If you want, you can choose the next destination—”

“Not this trip, Marik—the show. Me. _Us_.” Bakura took in a deep breath and met Marik’s eyes. "Dying never bothered me much before...before I met you. Sacrifice is easy when you have nothing to live for. But now…” Bakura choked on a sob. “I don’t want us to end. I don’t want to _die_.”

Marik stared at Bakura, and his eyes swam with the most clarity Bakura had ever seen in them. Tears spilled over as he pulled Bakura closer.

“Th-that won’t happen,” Marik stammered. He glanced around the closet as if expecting a solution to be hanging amongst the t-shirts and long sleeved button-ups. “Our fangirls would riot if we don’t end up together. You have to come back. You _have_ to!” he snapped, as if the command alone would make it so.

Neither of them noticed the Cube as it registered Marik’s command—and the unintentional push of Shadow Magic he’d backed it with—shifting the closet as time flowed around them, dragging them not to another universe, but later within the current one.

Bakura wiped his face, numb acceptance settling in in the wake of the grief. “Not all villains get a redemption, Marik.”

“But we’re a _parody_! There’s no way you’ll—wait, listen!”

The familiar cadence of their own voices— _both_ of their voices—drew their attention to outside the door...a door that, Bakura realized suddenly, was different than it had been a moment before. Glancing around, he noticed the rest of the closet had changed as well, replaced with another bedroom, different from the one they had been in before.

“Wait, how did we end up here?” Bakura wondered.

“Shhh!” Marik held his ear to the door despite the fact that they could hear the conversation plain as day without resorting to that. Bakura tuned his ears to the muffled conversation as well. They listened to the mundane chatter for a bit, and Bakura found himself smiling, strangely comforted by the natural banter.

_“I don’t see why you’re complaining. I mean, I’ve always liked you in that body.”_

_“You’ve never seen me in my original body.”_

Marik turned and raised an eyebrow at Bakura. “What _did_ your original body look like, Bakura?”

“You saw it when we were in the jail cell, remember? And briefly in the desert.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t _really_ what you looked like, right? I mean—you were all tan and buff!”

Bakura grinned, grateful for the lighter topic. “Easy as it may be to forget, I am technically Egyptian—and robbing tombs is quite the workout. I dare say at my prime, I had abs that put yours to shame.”

“Take that back! No one has better abs than me.”

“What’s the matter, Marik? Are you jealous?”

Marik snorted, pressing his ear once more to the smooth wood. “As if! Besides, you haven’t had ripped abs since we met, so technically I win.”

Bakura chuckled. “Whatever makes you happy...”

 _“What about you?”_ the Marik outside the closet asked. _“What do you plan to do with this second chance you’ve been gifted?”_

_“Haven’t really considered it.”_

_“Well, if you need a place to stay, I’m sure we could work something out.”_

A broad grin lit up Marik’s face as he did a giddy little jig.

“See, Bakura?” Marik said. “You came back, and you’re going to move in, and we’ll be together for good!”

As the conversation outside continued, it did, in fact, seem as though things were heading in that direction. Nonetheless, Bakura couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of his head that reminded him that this wasn’t their reality...

Bakura sighed. “Just because I came back in this universe, that doesn’t guarantee I’ll come back in ours—I don’t in any of the canon material.”

Marik’s smile melted to a thoughtful frown. “Are you sure about that?”

Bakura nodded.

“Well...then I guess we’ll just have to fix that.”

Bakura’s eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean, ‘fix’ it?”

Marik shrugged. “Well, if we make it canon—or at the very least, post canon—that we end up together, then we’ll have to end up together in our universe...right? I mean, our world _is_ extremely different from canon, but we still keep the main story intact.”

Bakura felt the beginnings of hope creep in. “You really think that will work?”

Seeing Bakura cheer up marginally, Marik puffed out his chest. “Of _course_ it will work! When have you ever known my plans to fail?—don’t answer that,” Marik added before Bakura could even open his mouth.

Smirking, Bakura crossed his arms and nodded. “Alright, I’m game. How do we make us canon?”

“Well...” Marik glanced toward the door. “Maybe we should find somewhere else to discuss this first? I have a feeling we won’t have this bedroom to ourselves for much longer.”

“Right.”

Waking the Cube back up, Marik scrolled through dozens of universes. He gave an exasperated huff, then said, “Aren’t there any worlds that don’t take place in a hotel room or a private residence? Ah, that’s better,” he added when the Cube obliged, showing a multitude of scenes taking place in public venues.

“I like this one,” he said after a few moments of browsing. “The flowers are pretty. What do you think, Bakura?”

“At least we could sneak off without getting noticed.”

“Ready?” Marik asked with a glance at Bakura, who nodded. Marik made the selection and gestured for Bakura to precede him. “Kitties first.”

Bakura snorted, but declined to comment as he stepped through the portal.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by [SuperSteffy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supersteffy/pseuds/Supersteffy) with Marik and Bakura visiting her fics [Remember Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7406515) and [To Feel Again](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7406794)
> 
> Fic referenced in this chapter: [Hold The Dark Holiday in Your Palm](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8403100) by [Distracted Dream](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDream/pseuds/DistractedDream)
> 
>  
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
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> This author sees and appreciates all comments and tries to reply to all of them.
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by ChaosRocket, Sitabethel and SuperSteffy

Bakura crashed onto the ground and Marik landed on top of him. Marik laughed and plucked maple leaves from Bakura's hair and Bakura felt himself smiling at the simple gesture despite himself. Their eyes locked for a second, like so many times before, but this time Bakura didn’t feel the need to look away or deny what he was feeling.

_“You bastard! Give it back right now!"_

Bakura heard himself screaming not far away, only he sounded less like LittleKuriboh, and more like Ted Lewis. It was followed by Marik’s voice.

_"No. You damn nerd, we're outside, quit playing video games the entire time and enjoy the fresh air with me."_

They brushed the dust from their clothes—Bakura spending extra time making sure Marik’s ass was dirt-free—and then they snuck through the trees to spy on their other halves.

"I hate fresh air and you. Give me back the game or I'll string your guts up from the trees." The other Bakura stepped towards Marik, grabbing at a Game Boy in Marik’s hand.

Marik kept it out of Bakura’s reach. "Hate me, do you? That's not what you were whispering into my hair last night—or the night before that, or the night before that."

"Those were all lies!" Bakura’s counterpart was a mess. His face glowed red and and he was clearly lying about lying.

“He reminds me of you,” Marik whispered with a smirk on his face.

“Shhhh.” Bakura pressed his finger to his lips in an attempt to avoid the conversation about him being anything like the clearly lovesick version of himself in this fanfic universe.

His other self lunged for the handheld again, but the other Marik dodged and started to run. "You need some exercise, Bakura!"

"Fuck you and get back here!" Bakura dashed after him.

They watched their alternate selves disappear into the foliage. Glancing at each other, they turned and went the opposite direction. They found a shady spot away from the main trail where they could speak without being overhead.

“So,” Bakura said. “What now?”

“Now.” Marik clapped his hands and rubbed them eagerly together. “We devise the ultimate scheme to get our still-sexy-but-less-intelligent canon selves together!”

“Easier said than done.” Bakura rolled his eyes. “From what I can tell, my canon self ends up trapped in the Shadow Realm after everything is over.”

“Then obviously we need to get the other you back from the Shadow Realm,” Marik said.

“And how, pray tell, do you plan to accomplish that?”

Marik held up the Cube with a triumphant grin. “This is a Millennium Item—it has access to the Shadow Realm just like the other Items. We swoop in, kidnap you from Zorc, then drop you back into the canon reality.”

“Hmmm…” Bakura rubbed his chin, considering Marik’s plan. “I hate to admit it, but that sounds…like a reasonable plan.”

“It is not!” Marik squawked. “This is far too brilliant to be ‘reasonable.’ It’s the most amazing plan of them all, I’ll have you know!”

“Sure, Marik.” Bakura gave him an amused snort. “There’s still the matter of getting our other selves together. I mean, as much as I’d like to just tie him in ribbon to the bed of the canon you and stick a bow on his head, I think it’s going to take a little more than that.”

“Huh, yeah…” Marik looked dazed for a moment. He snapped his fingers and, tucking away the Cube, pulled out a pad of sticky notes and a giant, plum-colored feather pen from his pants pocket. Marik stuck the tip of his tongue out as he scribbled a note.

“What are you doing?” Bakura asked. “Did you think of something that would help?”

“No, but I suddenly realized what I want Santa to bring me for Christmas.”

“Marik. Focus,” Bakura growled.

“Okay, okay, okay. Get ready to be amazed. Are you ready Bakura? Because I’m about to lay out the most spectacular phase of the best plan ever devised! Here it is- we’ll steal all of my canon self’s super sexy midriff-revealing tops and leave them like a trail of breadcrumbs to the place where we resurrect you. He’ll be forced to pick them all up or go shirtless forever!”

Bakura smacked his forehead. “I seriously doubt that your canon self is as attached to his clothing as you are, Marik.”

Marik huffed and crossed his arms. “Fine! You come up with a plan. You can’t expect me to do all the work!”

Bakura thought for a moment before nodding at the notepad in Marik’s hand. “Why don’t I just write a note to your canon self saying to meet me—that is, the canon me—somewhere?”

“Eh, I guess that works.” Marik shrugged. “Lacks the glamour of my plan, but I suppose no other me is as glamorous as me, so it should suffice.”

Marik pulled the Cube back out from his pants, and Bakura wondered how much hammer space Marik had in his pockets, because his clothes always looked flawless clinging to his body, but apparently Marik had an entire desk's worth of office supplies hidden in there on top of the Cube (and the Rod when he had it.) Marik flipped through universe after universe, frowning.

“This is going to take forever. There’s a million universes in this thing!”

“Give it a voice command.”

“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting we can do that. Hey Cube, show me the canon universe six months after the end of the manga.” Marik watched the screen flash to a specific world. “Here we go, oh look a card tournament, what a surprise, and I bet— _what the ever-loving frig_?!”

The screen was dark with clouds and a giant monster laughed. Its face was broken up into cubes, an eye in each square, and the Ring was embedded into the creature’s chest.

“Bakura! Is that you? It has the Ring!”

“That is most certainly not me.” Bakura scowled. “I don’t know what that is. Is this a crack fic?”

“No, it’s canon.”

“It’s rubbish.” Bakura crossed his arms over his chest. “Cube, just show us Marik the day after the manga ends.”

The images on the screen changed again. The screen displayed what looked liked somewhere in Egypt. Not ‘Somewhere In Egypt’ where they usually held base, but rather a city within Egypt—probably Luxor. The screen then zoomed to an apartment complex, and then a specific apartment on the third floor. Inside, Marik sat on the edge of his bed. Hunched over, Marik frowned at the floor, lost in thought.

“Aaaw, I look so sad!” Marik shouted when he saw his canon-self. “Stop frowning like that! You’ll get wrinkles!”

“Let’s write the note first,” Bakura suggested. ”Then we’ll rescue me and plant the note for you to go find me.”

“Neat!” Malik handed Bakura the sticky note pad and his frilly pen.

“What should I write?” Bakura frowned at the square of neon-yellow paper.

“Something that will make my canon self’s heart swoon. Like, OMG, he finally confessed! I must go rescue my bae immediately!”

Bakura raised an eyebrow at Marik.

“What?” Marik pursed his lips. “If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it big!”

“That won’t sound like me, and the canon you will suspect a trap if the note isn’t believable.” Bakura dropped to the grass below, tapping the pen against his lips and thinking. He started writing something, but crumpled the paper up and threw it aside. He was on the fifth Post-It note when he looked up at Marik. “Where are we going to leave the body?”

“The body? Who are we killing? We have to do it off screen, Bakura, otherwise—”

“Marik. _My body_. Where are we going to stick my other self?”

“It’s really weird that you’re referring to another you as a ‘body,’ Bakura. I think you should—”

“Let’s just dump my canon self off at the entrance to your tomb.” Bakura scribbled another note. He handed the pad back to Marik. “Here, how does that sound?”

Marik read the note out loud. “However this ends, I'm going to try to find my way back to you. If things don’t go as planned, meet me at the entrance of your tomb three days after the Pharaoh is gone.”

“Well?” Bakura picked at his nails.

“Would you?” Marik knelt down in front of Bakura, cupping his face and lifting it up so they could stare at each other.

“Would I what?” Bakura asked.

“Find your way back to me—if we got separated somehow.”

Bakura’s jaw tightened, and a denial bubbled up his throat, but he swallowed it, telling the truth instead. “Of course I would.”

“Then it’s perfect. Let’s go rescue you from the Purple Realm.”

“Shadow Realm?”

“Yeah, whichever. Oh, speaking of purple—” Marik dug into his side pockets. After a moment of struggling, Marik pulled out two long, purple robes.

“Rare Hunter robes? Why the bloody hell do we need these?”

“What else are we going to do? Are we going to walk up to you and go, ‘Hi there, we’re from the Church of OTP and we’d like to take some time to talk to you about the Good News— _of Thiefshipping_!’ and just hope he believes we have good intentions?”

“Hmmm, I see your point.” Bakura grabbed one of the purple robes and tossed it on.

“Cube,” Marik commanded the device in his hand, oddly on-task for once. “Show us wherever Bakura is in the manga-canon Shadow Realm, three days after the Ceremonial Duel.”

The familiar flash of light engulfed them, but then everything blacked out.

“Bakura! This sucks!” Marik shouted.

“I’m right here.” Bakura used Marik’s voice to find him. Bakura clutched Marik in his arms, rubbing reassuring circles at the base of Marik’s back.

“It’s supposed to be purple. This is nothing like the anime…” Marik muttered against Bakura’s robe.

“Hey, what about your pockets? Surely you have a flashlight if you have spare clothes.” Bakura smoothed Marik’s hair down in the pitch-black darkness. He knew the Abridged Marik’s fear wasn’t as bad as the canon version’s, but they weren’t simply in a dim room or even a subway tunnel. It was Vantablack all around them.

“Why would I have a flashlight?” Marik dug his fingers into Bakura’s shirt. “I never use them. I just hit the lights!”

“What about glow sticks?” Bakura asked.

“Well now that’s a silly question. What sort of Super Sexy Ultimate Mastermind Villain _wouldn’t_ have glow sticks in his pocket!” Marik shouted, moving around in the black.

Bakura heard the crinkling of a plastic package and then a hot pink stick cut through the void. Then a violet one, and blue, and green, and orange, and yellow. Marik passed several of the sticks over to Bakura.

“Um, I think that’s good, Marik.”

“But I have more. Look! This one is a fairy’s Rod!”

“Fairy wand, Marik.”

“It’s a Rod.” Marik waved the wand around his face, laughing.

“Great. We can see. Let’s go find my canon self.”

“Wait, I have bracelets.”

“We’re good.”

“But I want to make a wreath for your hair in rainbow colors!”

“We’re. Good. Let’s go.”

“You’re no fun.” Marik pouted, but followed Bakura when he started walking.

They found the original Bakura sitting in the black with his knees curled up to his chest. He watched them approach, face twisted with suspicion.

“Enough with the illusions. I know nothing here is real.” The original Bakura turned away, jaw clenched and fists balled.

Bakura didn’t give Marik any time to say something ridiculous. He stepped behind his other self. The original Bakura didn’t move, assuming that his Abridged counterpart was an illusion, and that made it all too easy for Bakura to knock him unconscious with a strike to the back of the head.

“Why the frig did you do that?” Marik’s brow furrowed as he stared down at the unconscious canon Bakura.

“We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile, remember? No point in letting him hear our voices.”

“It just seems really rude is all.”

“I’m sure I’ll get over it,” Bakura grumbled. “Being knocked unconscious is preferable to an eternity in the Shadow Realm, no matter what dimension you’re in. Now grab my feet and help me drag me out of here.”

“Wait, let me tell the Cube where to send us first.” Marik pulled the Cube out from his pocket. “Show us the tomb where my canon self grew up.”

The screen lit up with a desert scene. Cut into the sand, a pair of stairs descended into darkness.

“Oh goody, home sweet home.” Marik snorted as he grabbed the unconscious Bakura’s feet. “Damn, Bakura, you’re heavy.”

Bakura let the “heavy” comment go unanswered. Once out of the Shadow Realm, they laid Bakura’s body a few steps down, so the shade would keep him from broiling in the sun.

“The trap is set, now let’s go plant the bait.” Bakura smeared sweat off of his forehead.

With that, they set off for canon Marik’s apartment.

 

* * *

 

Bakura sat on the deck, rubbing his head as he gave Marik a sour look. Marik had managed to step on his head as they were climbing up...three times. Of course Marik's other self would have to live on the third floor.

Marik was oblivious to Bakura's discomfort as usual, poking around the door that led from the deck to his canon self’s apartment. “So, how are we going to get in here?” he asked, rattling the doorknob.

Bakura didn't bother to dignify that with a response, simply getting up and walking over to pick the lock. He could have entered the front door just as easily and avoided the climb, but unlike the back door on the deck, the front door didn't have a window, and he'd wanted to look in and make sure no one was home before breaking in. It wouldn't do to burst through the front door and have Marik's canon self sitting right there, watching as his alternate self and an alternate version of Bakura invaded his home.

As the door popped open, Marik said, “Great, that's one problem solved.”

The two entered the apartment, Marik carefully shutting the door behind them.

“Okay, so where should we put the note?” Marik asked.

“Who cares? Just put it anywhere.”

Marik glanced around, weighing his options. His violet eyes lit upon a deck of Duel Monsters cards sitting nearby on the dresser.

“Perfect!”

Grabbing the cards, Marik flipped through them, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Man, I have some good cards in here.” Marik started to pocket one, but Bakura stopped him.

“As much as I support theft and general evil-doing, I don’t believe now is the time.”

Marik pouted but put the card back. “Fine—spoil-sport.”

Sticking the Post-It between two cards, Marik placed the deck in the center of the bed.

“Why’d you put them there?”

“So I see them. Duh!”

“But if we want him to believe this note was left days ago by my other self before he left—you know what, it doesn't matter. Magic exists in this world. I'm sure your other self will think of some explanation for how the deck transported itself to the middle of the bed days after the note was left. Alright, let’s go.”

“Wait!” Marik pulled on Bakura’s sleeve to halt him. “Shouldn’t we stay to make sure I find the note?”

Bakura huffed. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this more intelligent side of you. Do me a favor and say something utterly ridiculous and random.”

“You know, if you think about it, GX and 5D’s are pretty good shows.”

“Well, that’s a bit better.”

Marik gave Bakura a quick wink and they left the room and went back outside to the balcony. Closing the door behind them, they staked out the bedroom until Marik’s canon self returned home. Marik and Bakura peered through the window on the door and watched as canon Marik stepped into the bedroom. The original Marik stopped near the bed and stared at the deck of cards that hadn’t been there when he’d left. He inched to the foot of the bed, reaching out and picking up the deck. Marik ran his fingertips along the edges of his deck, his face a mask. Deliberately, he flipped the deck around so that the cards were face up and began to flip through a few. That’s when the piece of scrap paper fluttered to the duvet.

Marik picked up the Post-It note, frowning at it. His eyes moved as they scanned the note. When he finished, he folded it into a square, slipped it into his pocket, and marched out of the room.

“Well? Is he going to get you?” Marik asked.

“How the bloody hell do I know?”

They heard the faint roar of an engine below them and watched from the balcony as Marik’s canon half sped off into the busy street.

“Well? Are we going to follow me?”

Bakura shook his head. “Not unless you have a motorcycle in your pocket. It’s best if we wait for him to come back and see if I’m with him.”

“Boring,” Marik huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He plopped into a folding chair set out on the balcony.

Bakura paced as they waited. Marik sat in the lawn chair with crossed legs, knee bouncing with impatience. He chewed on his bottom lip, lost in thought.

“What if we do all this and they still don’t get together?” Marik broke the silence.

“What do you mean?” Bakura asked.

“We’re difficult people. What if they fight and get pissed off and you leave before they get to the good parts?”

Bakura growled and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. How could we stop that? We can’t interact with ourselves. I doubt they’d believe that parody versions of themselves just want a happy ending for them.”

“But we could… _help them_. Get together, I mean.” Marik smirked. “You know, lovingly nudge them in the right direction.”

“You have my attention.” Bakura stopped pacing. He leaned against the rail and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, we’ve been looking through a lot of fic universes, and I just figured all our canon selves need is a catalyst, right?”

“Perhaps, but what do we do?” Bakura asked.

“I’ve got this, Bakura. I know exactly how to get us together! I’ve read, like, all of the fanfics about us. I’m basically an expert.”

Bakura gave Marik an amused snort. “Then by all means, think of a plan.”

Marik took his “fairy’s rod” and tapped his chin in thought. “Hmmm… we can’t force them to share a bed if they don’t want to, and I doubt we could convince them to become fake boyfriends…” Marik snapped his fingers. “We’ll just pull the breaker after dark.”

“That will _upset you_.” Bakura frowned.

“Of course it will upset me! That’s the point! My canon self will get upset and your canon self will comfort me and we’ll be married by morning!”

Bakura grunted at the marriage comment, but Marik did have a point. Their other selves may argue about the note, perhaps enough to make Bakura’s counterpart storm off. Turning off the lights would force him to act on his feelings instead of having to confess them—which, Bakura had to admit, was a good strategy when he was involved.

“What if my other self drops the ball and doesn’t comfort you enough? Then we’ve pretty much ensured that we’ll never get together in this universe.”

“Kitty! Shame on you for not having more confidence in yourself! You’ll definitely comfort me when the lights go out.”

“But how do you _know_?”

“You did it a few hours ago!” Marik waved his fading wand, reminding Bakura of their moment in the Shadow Realm together.

“Huh, guess I did.” Bakura smiled at himself. He was a fucking sap. He hadn't even thought of what he was doing. He’d acted on instinct, and his instinct was to protect Marik.

The plan decided, the two continued to wait outside, frequently glancing through the window to see if Marik’s canon self had returned yet. Finally, they saw him walk through the door, an unconscious Bakura slung over his shoulder.

“My canon self is still passed out,” Bakura remarked. “I guess I hit me harder than I thought.”

They watched as canon Marik set his partner down on the couch, then went to get a wet washcloth to put on his forehead. Marik then sat down on the couch next to him, reaching out to trail his fingers through his Bakura’s hair.

The Bakura looking at the scene through the window chuckled. “Your manga canon self did the same thing when my manga canon self was passed out from stabbing himself—you stuck me on your bike and then put your hand in my hair.”

“Well, you’re so fluffy, of course I wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“Oh, look, I think I’m opening my eyes. Yeah, I’m sitting up. Ha, you jerked your hand back pretty quick.” Bakura laughed.

“I wanna hear what they’re saying!” Marik exclaimed. With that, Marik got to his knees to press his ear to the door, while Bakura continued to stand peering through the window.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?”

“Kind of,” Marik said. “You’re asking me whether this is still the Shadow Realm...I’m saying no, I think...oh, now you’re saying this feels too real to be the Shadow Realm.”

“Yeah, I just reached out and touched your face for a second.”

“Shh, I can’t hear us when you talk!” Marik pressed his ear closer to the door to better hear their conversation, and heard two voices faintly drifting through the annoying barrier.

_“I'm definitely real. I came and got you. You were passed out, so I brought you back here.”_

_“You got me out of the Shadow Realm? How?”_

_“No, I mean—I got your note.”_

_“What note? I never left you a note.”_

_“Oh, so that's how it's going to be. Sure, you didn't leave me a note.”_

_“I didn't leave you a note. How did you get me out of the Shadow Realm?”_

_“I didn't. I found you at the entrance to my tomb, like the note said to.”_

_“_ What _note?”_

_“You really expect me to believe you didn't write that note? Yet you were exactly where the note said you'd be, on the day it said you'd be there.”_

_“You expect me to believe you didn't get me out of the Shadow Realm? How else did I get out, then? Wait...I remember...I saw you just before I passed out. You were wearing your Rare Hunter robes, but it was definitely you.”_

_“Oh, so you'll admit to having hallucinations of me rescuing you, but you won't admit you wrote that note?”_

_“You'll admit to running to come find me just because of some note you imagined was from me, but you won't admit you got me out of the Shadow Realm?”_

_“Ugh! You're insufferable! I don't know why I brought you back here!”_

_“So, you admit you brought me back from the Shadow Realm?”_

_“No, I meant back to my apartment! Gods! You know what? It's late. Let's just go to bed. I mean...I'm going to bed, you can stay here on the couch.”_

_“Fine.”_

“The other Marik is going back to the bedroom now,” Bakura reported from his place at the window. “The other me looks angry. What were they saying?”

Marik laughed. “I wouldn't believe that you didn't write that note, and you wouldn't believe that I didn't come rescue you from the Shadow Realm. It was hilarious. And adorable, actually. We're so in love.”

Bakura tried not to smile. “Still, our canon selves are angry with each other now. Looks like we're going to have to put our plan into action.”

“Ooh, I'm so excited! It'll be like a fanfic come to life!”

“Uh, Marik? What do you think we've been watching all this time? All these different universes we've been to? Remember?”

Marik rolled his eyes. “But this is different! These are our canon selves! And it's a fanfic _we're_ writing! Kind of! At least, a plot we're setting up! And why do you always have to try to rain on my parade? You're such a stick in the mud.”

Bakura actually found himself saying, “I'm sorry, you're right.” The sex from earlier must have really addled his mind.

“Excellent!” cried Marik. “Now, let's wait until they go to sleep, and then we can sneak in and cut the power. Then we can make a noise or something to wake me up, and watch the magic happen!”

“Trying to watch and listen through this door is bollocks, though,” Bakura said. “And once the power is cut, we won't even be able to see anything.”

“Silly Fluffy, don't you know I'm always prepared for any villainous scheme?”

With that, Marik pulled two pairs of night vision goggles out of the hammer space in his pockets.

Bakura just stared at them. “You know what? I'm not even going to question it.”

“We can hide in his closet to get a better view, and be able to hear them better,” Marik said.

“Alright,” Bakura agreed.

Once they’d waited long enough to be sure their counterparts were asleep, they slipped through the door and tiptoed through the dim, silent apartment. For once Marik seemed to be taking something seriously, not making any loud, silly exclamations that would wake their canon selves.

They searched until they found the breaker, then flipped it and watched as the dim light glowing in the bedroom of Marik’s alternate flickered off, as did the hallway light he’d left on.

With that, they both strapped on their respective pairs of night vision goggles, nodded to each other, and crept into the canon Marik’s room.

Soon they were hiding in the closet and peering through the slats out into Marik’s room, a position which felt all too familiar to Bakura. His heart clenched as he remembered what he’d heard last time he was in this situation—his other self saying he was leaving and not coming back. He took a deep breath. They were going to fix it. It had worked out for them in the end in that fanfic universe, and they were making sure things would work out in the canon universe, so there was really nothing to worry about—

Bakura was drawn out of his thoughts by an excited whisper close to his ear.

“Now we just need to wake me up! I'll totally freak out when I see it’s pitch black, and you’ll come running to comfort me!”

Bakura just nodded, and began searching the floor of the closet. Eventually he came up with a pair of dice. “Should work,” he muttered, mostly to himself. He opened the closet door a crack, then chucked the dice across the room, successfully pegging Marik’s canon self right in the head. Then he shut the closet door with a loud slam, just for good measure.

He’d known Marik’s other self would be upset, but he hadn’t been quite prepared for him to actually _scream_. He was used to his own Marik, whose fear of the dark wasn’t nearly as intense as his canon version’s fear.

But his Marik had been right—he was a bit horrified to realize his brain had, against his will, applied the words _as usual_ to that thought—because his own canon self _did_ come running.

Bakura pressed his goggles right up to the closet door, looking through a small space between two of the slats, and watched the scene play out.

“Marik? What’s wrong?” Bakura’s canon self asked.

Marik’s canon self actually seemed to relax a bit at hearing the familiar voice, but not by much. “N-nothing. Just...the lights…”

A relieved sigh. “Oh.” Bakura didn’t seem to have any trouble moving around in the dark. He’d soon felt his way over to the bed and sat down next to Marik, and after a second of hesitation, rested a cautious hand on his shoulder.

Marik jumped a little.

“It’s just me.” Bakura made to draw his hand back, but Marik instinctively reached out and grabbed at his wrist, apparently too afraid in the pitch blackness to let go of the anchor.

At that touch, Bakura settled a minute degree closer to Marik and then, after a moment, linked his arm with Marik’s to ground him.

The Bakura in the closet heard a quiet huff of delighted laughter emanate from the body pressed next to his, and he lightly elbowed his Marik in the ribs and shushed him.

“Did you hear that?” came the panicked cry from outside the closet. The canon version of Marik cringed and huddled closer to his world’s Bakura.

“You’re just imagining things because you’re freaked out,” came the reply. “Do you have anything we could use to make light? Candles or something?”

“Y-yeah, I think.” A pause, and then, “In the kitchen, in a drawer.”

“Do you want me to go get them while you stay here?”

“No!” came Marik’s panicked shout.

“Alright, you can come with me. Don’t worry, I’ve robbed enough tombs to be good at getting around in the dark. Just hang onto my arm and I’ll lead you.”

The two shuffled off the bed, Marik clutching at Bakura’s arm so hard his fingers dug into the skin, apparently too afraid to feel embarrassed about the situation. They moved slowly from the room, Marik starting at every creak of the floorboards. Their footsteps echoed in the gloom as they presumably made their way to the kitchen.

“Candles! How romantic!” the Abridged Marik enthused. Then he seemed to think for a moment and said, “Hey, how come you didn’t get me any candles? I _did_ ask for romance! Maybe I’d be better off with this other version of you.”

Bakura knew Marik was only kidding, but he still huffed in irritation. He could almost feel Marik staring at him with indignation, and eventually he broke down and felt himself blushing as he said, “I’ll get you anything you want when we get back home.”

“Good kitty.”

“Now shut the bloody hell up,” Bakura hissed, irritation renewed due to Marik's condescending comment. “They could come back at any moment, and your other self has already heard you once.”

“They’d better come back to this room,” Marik said, worry in his tone. “What if they stay out there—“

But Bakura put his hand over Marik’s mouth to quiet him just in time, as seconds later their other selves entered the bedroom carrying several candles.

They watched from the closet as Bakura laid out the candles on Marik’s dresser, and then lit them one by one. Marik had still been gripping Bakura’s arm, but once soft light suffused throughout the room, he snapped away quickly and went to sit on the bed, seemingly trying to look nonchalant, as if nothing had happened.

In the closet, Bakura discarded his goggles, not wanting to have to view what he hoped was coming in shades of green. But he felt a pang of disappointment as the canon Marik said, “Well, thanks. You can go now. I should be able to get back to sleep with those candles in the room.”

But luckily, Bakura’s other self wasn't having any of that, and he said, “Oh, am I dismissed now? I should have known you’d be an ungrateful brat. I don’t know why I even helped you with your little panic attack…”

Marik looked away, seeming to actually feel a bit bad—or maybe just embarrassed about the incident. But his tone was sharp as he said, “What did you want me to do? Pay you in gold?”

“Wouldn’t say no to that,” Bakura snorted. “But you could at least start by apologizing for acting like such an asshole earlier tonight.”

“When did I act like an asshole?” Marik demanded. “When I brought you to my home and made you comfortable and then was kind enough to try to treat your apparent head wound?”

“You said—“ Bakura started, but then he broke off.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s not important.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. If you’re going to be pissed off at me I should at least get to know why,” Marik said, crossing his arms and giving Bakura a petulant look. “You can’t be mad at me and expect me to read your mind and guess why. Are you 3000 or 13?”

“I was only 16 when I died,” Bakura muttered, looking down at his feet.

Marik raked a hand through his golden hair and sighed. “Look, I appreciate you helping me by getting some light in here. I really do. Okay? Now will you tell me what’s wrong?”

Bakura continued to stare at his feet. “It’s really nothing. I’m just...off from the time I spent in the Shadow Realm. It’s...well, it’s not a nice place, let’s put it that way.”

“I’m sorry,” Marik said. “But on the bright side, you’re out now, right?”

“No thanks to you, apparently,” Bakura said under his breath.

Marik’s eyes widened. “ _Oh_.”

Bakura seemed to realize Marik had heard him and understood, and a shamed look appeared on his face for a second before he replaced it with a glare and turned to stalk out of the room. But Marik got up from the bed and reached out to grab his arm, his grip now softer than the panicked hold he’d had before. Bakura turned to look at him and their eyes locked.

“I would have,” Marik said quietly. “I didn’t, yet, but...I wouldn’t have left you there.”

“O-oh,” Bakura said, his breath stuttering.

The Abridged version of Bakura felt his companion almost vibrating with anticipation next to him. What happened next made him realize he’d forgotten to breathe, as both he and his partner released their breath in unison at the sight before them.

It wasn’t clear who had kissed whom first. But their canon selves were suddenly locked together, clinging desperately to each other, and then Marik dragged Bakura down onto the bed with him.

“I told you this would work,” Abridged Marik whispered.

Though Marik was being quiet—as quiet as his Marik was capable of, anyways—Bakura still thought about scolding him for talking in case their other selves were to hear. But he realized they were now too caught up in each other to be aware of anything else in the world. Bakura knew the feeling.

“I expect eternal compliments on my intelligence from you,” his Marik went on. “Was this not an excellent, and not at all _stupid_ , plan?”

“You were right, Marik,” Bakura said into his ear. He thought he actually might be getting used to saying that. It was a disquieting thought. “Some of your plans are pretty good. But really, can you blame me for not being enthusiastic when your plans involve things like Yugi’s socks?”

“Shh, don’t ruin the moment,” Marik said.

Bakura rolled his eyes at that. He considered bringing up all the many moments Marik had ruined over the years, but thought better of it. Instead he pulled Marik to him and whispered, “As great as your plan was, I don’t think they actually needed us. You heard him, right? You would have saved me.”

Marik returned his embrace. “You were silly to worry we wouldn’t end up together. We’ll always end up together...in every universe.”

Marik’s hands twined in Bakura’s hair and his body pressed close and the affectionate look in his eyes made Bakura forget to be embarrassed about being sappy. “Maybe it’s just destiny,” he whispered.

Then he leaned in to kiss Marik, and the two entwined bodies began mirroring what their canon counterparts were doing on the other side of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by ChaosRocket, Sitabethel and SuperSteffy with Marik and Bakura visiting Sitabethel's fic [Wanted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6398206)
> 
> One more chapter after this! There will be an epilogue posted in a week.
> 
>  
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Random keyboard mashing because words could never adequately convey your feels
> 

> 
> This author sees and appreciates all comments and tries to reply to all of them.
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ChaosRocket, Sitabethel, and I (Supersteffy) would like to give a final, overwhelming thanks to everyone that participated in this project! Whether you wrote a chapter, were referenced, helped brainstorm, or merely supported the efforts of those who worked on the fic by reading it, thank you so, so, _so_ much! This project could have never turned out this amazing if it weren't for all of you!
> 
> (Don't forget to check out all the great authors acknowledged and linked throughout the fic for more awesome reads!)
> 
> This epilogue was written by ChaosRocket, Sitabethel, and Supersteffy, although ChaosRocket did most of it.

“Well, looks like we’re right back where we started,” Marik said, cocking a hip and glaring at the cloudy smoke and gross eyeballs of their own universe’s Shadow Realm.

“I wouldn’t say we’re _exactly_ where we started,” Bakura hummed, reaching out to brush a hand over Marik’s cheek and unintentionally letting his features fall into a soft look.

Marik smiled and let his arms find their way around Bakura’s waist. “True enough. And regardless of anything else, I think our little adventure was a lot more fun than just sitting in the Purple Realm for all this time.” Marik pulled a face as he glanced at the unpleasant scenery again.

“True. Too bad we had to come back here,” Bakura said. “But the dork squad has won and gotten the show renewed, so they’ll be pulling you out for your last duel soon.”

“I think I’m going to ramble about spaghetti during that duel.”

“Why the bloody hell would you do that?” Bakura scowled.

“I’m supposed to be stupid, remember?” Marik winked at him.

“Right, right,” Bakura said. “You should toss in a meme somewhere too.”

“For you? I think I can think of something funny.” Marik poked Bakura’s nose, causing it to scrunch up. Marik grinned as he watch Bakura rub his nose. He pulled him a little closer. “You know…we have some alone time before we get dragged back into the plot…” Marik trailed off, giving Bakura a sultry look as he slid his fingers underneath the hem of his shirt.

Bakura smirked. “I’m sure as hell not going to complain, but we literally just had sex. Remember? In the closet like twenty minutes ago?”

“Yeah, but we had to be quiet in order for our canon selves not to hear us, so it didn’t count,” Marik pouted.

Bakura cackled into the (very purple) shadows, leaning in to kiss Marik’s forehead. “Then I’ll make sure this time I scream until you say it counts.”

“You'd better.” Marik kissed up Bakura’s jaw. “Besides, it _will_ help distract me from this awful decor.”

Then Marik’s hand was fully underneath Bakura’s shirt, his other hand dipping below the waistline of his jeans. Marik tried to kiss him as they both struggled to get Bakura out of his clothes, but they had to keep separating every few seconds so he could pull Bakura’s shirt over his head, or so Marik could look at what he was doing and actually succeed in undoing the button on Bakura’s pants instead of just fumbling with it.

When Bakura was finally naked, Marik pushed him backwards and hovered over him. Bakura was already hard.

“Well...I guess I owe you,” Marik said.

Before Bakura could ask what he meant, Marik dipped his head and gave a soft kiss to the tip of his erection, and Bakura’s breath stopped. For several moments he couldn’t react, couldn’t even think; even though they’d already had sex twice before, he still couldn’t quite believe all this was really happening. The fact that Marik had put his mouth on his dick on purpose was so amazing that it made him feel like his brain had short circuited.

But eventually he noticed that Marik had stopped all movement was looking up at him, an unsure expression on his face.

“Something wrong? You don’t...have to...”

“No, I want to! It’s just...I’ve never done this before…”

Bakura gave him a genuine smile. “Anything you do will be...amazing. Trust me.”

“So, should I…” Marik paused, seeming to want some kind of instruction.

“Just...put it in your mouth and slide it in and out,” Bakura offered.

Marik did just that, and it was so good Bakura threw his head back, feeling as if there had been an explosion behind his eyes.

It was inexpert, and somewhat clumsy. Marik didn’t use his hands, or apply any suction. He didn’t move his tongue, keeping it still and pressed flat against the underside of Bakura’s dick. His teeth even scraped against the sensitive skin a couple times.

But for Bakura it was beyond incredible, being inside the heat of Marik’s wet mouth, feeling his lips move over his hard cock again and again.

Only a couple minutes in and Bakura was already climbing, his toes curling as pleasure shot through his entire body.

“Fa-faster,” Bakura panted, and Marik sped up immediately at his request.

It didn’t take long after that for Bakura to explode, his orgasm gripping him and overwhelming all of his senses.

Marik managed to swallow, though he did cough a bit as he came up.

“Was that...alright?”

Bakura could only nod, gazing up at Marik with a look of rapture on his face. “Perfect,” he finally managed.

As Bakura lay there, his breath still heavy, Marik looked down at himself and seemed to suddenly realize he was still fully dressed. As Marik took care of that problem, Bakura could still do nothing but stare up at Marik in a daze, smiling at him like an idiot.

Once Marik had rid himself of his clothes, he crawled over Bakura’s prone body, licking his lips before leaning down for a kiss.

 

* * *

 

Canon Bakura lay back against the sheets of Marik’s bed, breathless from their kissing and unbelievably turned on from the feeling of their naked bodies pressed together.

Marik looked down at him, reaching out to twine his fingers into Bakura’s white storm of hair.

“Ready?” he asked softly.

Bakura nodded, closing his eyes and bending his knees as he spread his legs wider.

Marik let out a moan as he slipped inside, and Bakura answered with his own groan of pleasure. Bakura wrapped his legs around Marik’s waist as he began moving, slow and cautious at first, but soon faster as Bakura begged for more.

They moved together in rhythm, their kisses becoming sloppy as Marik’s motions jarred Bakura’s body and feeling overtook them both. Bakura’s fingers slid over Marik’s back, ghosting against the carved patterns there, gentle in contrast to the way every other muscle in his body was tensed with electric feeling, his legs a vice around Marik’s middle, and the clumsy presses of their lips against each other hard and intense.

When Marik reached between their bodies to grasp Bakura’s erection, Bakura had to break his seal over Marik’s lips entirely in order to toss his head to the side and call out. Through his all-consuming ecstasy, he just remembered to move his hands away from Marik’s back and to his sides, needing to dig his nails into flesh.

Marik tilted his hips, adjusting his angle as he stroked Bakura faster, until finally he managed to send Bakura over the edge and Bakura began to spill over his stomach, moaning Marik’s name.

It was what Marik had been waiting for. The feeling of being completely enveloped by Bakura was too much, Bakura’s inner walls gripping him tighter now as Bakura came, and he couldn’t last another second. He let himself go, allowing the spasms of Bakura’s orgasm to wring his own climax from him, and he released inside of Bakura. They rode out their orgasms together, thrusting faster at first and then beginning to gradually slow. When they were both completely spent, Marik pulled out and then flopped down next to Bakura.

Marik wrapped Bakura in his arms, pulling him close. Bakura sighed in satisfaction, lying his head on Marik’s chest.

There were several moments of comfortable silence as they enjoyed the closeness and the lingering glow of their mutual fulfillment.

Then Bakura raised his head and said, “So...if you really didn’t pull me out of the Shadow Realm...how did I get out?”

Marik frowned as he trailed his fingers through Bakura’s mane of white hair. “I have no idea.”

“And I honestly didn’t write you a note,” Bakura said as he leaned into Marik’s touch.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” said Bakura. “So there actually was a note?”

“Yeah, I can even show it to you. I found it in my deck of cards...which, come to think of it, just suddenly appeared in the middle of my bed, right before I discovered the note earlier today, and I know I wasn’t the one to put them there.”

“Fucking weird,” Bakura said, sighing as Marik’s hand moved to rub slow circles against his back.

“I seriously don’t think there’s anyone we know who would want to rescue you and bring you to me and make me think you’d left a note.” Marik shrugged. “Well, I guess we can chalk it up to the gods.”

Bakura scoffed. “I don’t believe for a second those assholes would do anything to help me...or you, for that matter.”

Marik looked down at Bakura’s face, lit with the soft glow of candlelight, and smiled. “Fate, then. You were supposed to come back.” He paused as he drew a finger over Bakura’s cheek, his eyes full of emotion. “To me,” he added more quietly.

Bakura was feeling too content to be his usual standoffish self. He closed his eyes, sinking deeper into Marik’s warmth as he let his fingers draw aimless patterns against Marik’s arm, and whispered, “Yeah. Destiny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived happily ever after--in every corner of the multiverse. THE END.
> 
>  
> 
> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Random keyboard mashing because words could never adequately convey your feels
> 

> 
> This author sees and appreciates all comments and tries to reply to all of them.
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


End file.
